“You’re correct, but Sunil, what was the name of the other one, the poisonous mushroom?”

  “I am sorry Miss Tempest, I don’t remember. Next time I will repeat the name and have it.”

  “Sunia, do you remember?”

  “Yes Miss Tempest. The poisonous mushroom has the name, Amanita.”

  Aloud, Sunil repeated, “Amanita,” three times. “I have it now.”

  Annette gazed at the shroom with dubious eyes. “This weird looking thing is edible?”

  I bent to loosen it from the ground, “Believe it. It’s great in soups and as garnish. Wait until Preeja adds it to our scrambled powdered eggs, Yum, yum, yummy.”

  The head of the mushroom filled Sunia’s pail.

  Moving from that spot, hidden by the trunk of a pine, Sunil spotted another Cauliflower Mushroom. Rushing to harvest, I called for him to stop. “Once picked, they spoil fast. Leave it until this one is used.”

  Our next find was a scattering of Boletus growing under a grouping of oaks. Holding a large, mature specimen in my hand, I said, “This is a mushroom from the Bolete family of mushrooms. This one is brown, but they can come in other colors, red, green, pinkish, but they all have a common characteristic, instead of gills, the underside of the cap is porous and spongy, easily compressed.

  I handed the Bolete to Sunil. “Examine it, feel it and mash the underside.”

  After Sunil and Sunia checked out the shroom, it went to Annette.

  She examined and then sniffed it. "All of the Boletes are edible?”

  To her I said, “There is one to avoid, Satan’s Bolete. You can’t mistake it because it is bright red under the cap. Break the cap and stem of that one open.”

  She did and immediately threw it onto the ground. “It’s full of maggots! Jesus Christ, Tempest.”

  “Baby fly larva. That is one thing to watch out for when harvesting Boletes, they’re so tasty that bugs love em. That one was fully mature. You want to pick young Boletes and hope you get em before the bugs do. Let’s see if we can find some for Sunil’s pail and call it a day out here.”

  Before leaving on my walk to the community, Preeja insisted on feeding me a ‘nutritious meal.’ Included in the meal was a concoction of fried rice with chunks of the Bolete and her magic with spices. I could have eaten three plates of just that.

  Vikas saw me put down my fork and push my plate away.

  “Today you will see to the cow? Fresh meat would be as if heaven.”

  I had to grin. “Yeah, I’ll check for cows, but don’t expect me to return with one. Cows around here aren’t pets; more like wild animals. It’ll take a special trip to round one up.”

  He nodded, “You know the trick of the lasso as on western movie?”

  “I’m thinking more along the line of shooting it in the field and loading it onto our utility trailer.”

  Annette said. "Am I wrong? I thought Indians revered cows and didn't eat them."

  Vikas replied, "That is true, but the custom is diminished. Food for the many is scarce. Hunger drives to change."

  ************

  The first place I knew of that had cattle was five miles along the road, just after Missus Smelts home. I stopped at her place, shouted and waited, shouted and waited, but she didn’t show. Deep down I knew the gang had raided her place before I took care of them. On the other hand, she might’ve caught the plague, and died. I didn’t go to the house.

  The property that had cattle was large with acres of open fields for them to graze. Passing by the place on my trip to Henderson, I’d seen several head grazing in the fields to the right of the farmer’s home. The home was setback nearly an eighth mile from the road.

  With an exception, this time was no different; I counted eight head. The exception was two piles of offal, the guts and heads of two cows lying in the field near the drive to the house.

  The farmer wouldn’t kill and gut his cattle there. As with Missus Smelts, my mind went immediately to the gang. The farmer, and family if he had one were probably dead, but I had to be sure.

  Walking the long driveway, when marginally within calling distance of the house I began shouting to let anyone know I was coming. At fifty-feet from the front porch, I stopped and waited, intermittently shouting to announce my presence.

  No one responded so I went onto the porch. Per Billy’s instruction when knocking on a door in hostile territory, I stood to the side and rapped the door with the butt of my hunting knife.

  No one answered the knock. Better, no one shot through the door either. I knocked several more times and then went to peer through the living room window. The sun was at a bad angle to light the space, but after staring for a few seconds, I decided that room was empty of people.

  I left the porch to go to the rear of the house. Turning the corner on the driveway side, on the ground was a fly infested corpse dressed in coveralls. A black, dried-blood stain surrounding the head of the body told the tale. The gang or other possible marauders had come to visit him.

  Detoured around the corpse, went to the back door and mounted the steps to the back stoop. The door stood wide, the shattered jamb giving evidence someone had kicked it open.

  The body of a rotting woman halfway across the kitchen floor gave reason for the foul odor wafting from the opening. Half of her head was gone; I figured the result of a shotgun blast. I didn’t gag. I was growing used to dead bodies and the stench of putridity.

  There was no reason to investigate farther. Vikas would have his cow. Leaving the door stoop, the crowing of a rooster drew me toward the barn. Attached to the side was a coop with a large fenced run.

  I counted twenty hens and a rooster inside the fence furiously scratching the ground in search of food. Inside the coup, their automatic feeder was empty. After replenishing the container from a plastic barrel of feed inside the barn, I tossed a few handfuls onto the ground for the hens to scratch.

  Into a pail found near the feed barrel went over three dozen eggs from the nests. Leaving the farm, I hid the pail near the road for my return trip.

  A half-mile from the community I passed a house, a doublewide actually, old, in need of a new roof. An elderly man using a cane hobbled from his porch down his drive to intercept me. He stopped twenty feet from the road.

  “Where’re you going, young lady?”

  “Up the road a ways.”

  “Don’t go the Henderson? My boy went there a few days ago. He’s in his RV behind my house. He says he’s sick and he won’t come out.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. No, I’m not going to Henderson.”

  “You'll be smart if you don't. There’s a bunch of houses up the road that have the road blocked. You’ll have to detour around them.”

  “Thanks for the information.”

  “Do you know when the FEMA relief crew will show up? I can’t get anything out of my radio, and the satellite is down. It won’t be long until I’m plumb out of everything. My propane tank is almost empty.”

  “I don’t think FEMA is going to come.”

  “That’s what my boy said. That’s why he went to town. He came back with a few bags tied to his ATV. He said everyone in town is dead. Do you know what’s happened to them?”

  “There’s a plague on the loose that’s killing everyone who catches it. I’d be careful handling those supplies. I’ve been told that the plague virus can live for days on stuff.”

  The old man cleared his throat and turned to spit onto the ground beside him. “If that’s so, well then my boy’s got it, he’s going to die and I’m doomed. Most of what he brought is already in my house. It’s too bad this had to happen now. If it was summer I’d have my garden to eat out of.”

  “Yeah, summer would’ve been better,” I agreed.

  He must have noticed me getting antsy, casting glances up the road. “I can see you want to get on. I won’t keep you, but if you do see any government people, tell em about me. Cyrus Abbot. Mailbox number 564.”

  “I sure will.”

  Walking away, I wondered why the gang hadn’t invaded his house. It could be because of how close he lived to the community. Maybe the gang worried that the community had patrols out that far.

  Nothing I could do for him, so I wrote him from my mind. Even if I wanted to further burden myself, I wouldn’t chance it because of his probable exposure to the virus. A few steps further along, I remembered he said he’d soon run out of everything.

  Billy said that in a mess that brought chaos most people would not have supplies to survive a week. What he often repeated during his rants was that those who did prepare would have to turn a blind eye on those that didn’t; otherwise, they’d soon find themselves in the same condition.

  Billy talked “cold heart survival”, but considering his true nature, in this situation I believe if he were alive, he’d drop off food for the old man, for Missus Smelts too. ‘Cold heart survival’, yeah, that’s me. What we had would have to last until it was safe to scavenge stores and warehouses. It was amazing how fast the supplies Billy stockpiled dwindled with seven people eating from them… now eight with Annette.

  I was within twenty-feet of the hay bale barricade of the community before a man shouted for me to stop. He stood and leaned on a bale. His red-blotched face and bloodshot eyes advertised the worst had happened.

  “Go away girl. The plague’s here. Go away it you don’t want to die.”

  Since he wasn’t holding a weapon, I knew he meant die from the plague.

  “What happened here? I thought you people were being careful.”

  “Hey, I know you. You’re the girl who warned us about the attack. We fought those bastards off, kept anyone from coming through, but you can’t control everything.

  “A little girl from a farm around here wandered in past our guards. She went to school with our children. They hid her in a shed so we wouldn’t run her off. That was right around the time of the attack.

  “The girl’s family was dead from the plague and she had it as well. The girl left the shed and a woman found her. By then, most the children were infected and it spread to all of us. Went through us like a bush hog mowing grass.”

  The man began crying. “Everyone’s dead, my wife, my daughters, my son and everyone else. There’s nowhere where there isn’t death. I don’t want to die like them, vomiting and shitting blood, screaming in pain. That’s why I’m over here. I came to shoot myself, but I can’t. Suicide is a mortal sin. If I kill myself I won’t join my family on the other side.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I said, “I’m sorry you all got the plague.”

  He wiped his face and stood from leaning on the hay. “I know you are. Thank you. Wait a couple of months and come back. Go to four-fifty-four. The garage has a false wall at the back, but you’ll get to our supplies outside around back of it. There’s a hidden door inside a toolshed attached to it. Take the shelves out. Four-sixty has the same arrangement.”

  “Are you the only one left?” I asked.

  “Yes, I’m the only one. I checked every house. Bobby Wells was still alive, but so far gone he was barely breathing, a stinking mess of bloody meat. I shot him.”

  He began crying again, not sobbing, the silent, tears running down your face crying. “I’m wasted my time coming over here, but it didn’t feel right to kill myself in the house. I’m going home to die with them. You’d be doing me a favor if you shot me in the head. Take care of yourself, Stay away from people.”

  He turned his head and coughed, a clot of red phlegm and spittle flew from his mouth. He cleared his throat, spat again and in a voice barely above a mutter, “I can feel it eating my insides. That’s what it does, I’m shitting blood, but fluid filling your infected lungs is what kills you.”

  He stumbled away toward the houses, went a few feet and bent out of sight behind the bales. I heard him vomit, and cough, vomit and cough. After that, I heard him moaning in pain. Listening to him, the sounds he made were horrible. He begged God to give relief, to take him. I didn’t expect him to stand up again, but he did.

  He didn’t look back toward me. All I could see above the bales were his bobbing head and shoulders. Unplanned, my rifle sights lined up on the back of his head. I gave him his favor and pulled the trigger. Blood sprayed from his head and he fell out of sight.

  I wasn’t about to go near the bales, much less climb on top to see if I’d killed him, but stayed a few minutes and listened. Not a sound came from the other side.

  There was no need for further exploration. I walked from the barricade with a lesson learned. The plague was a relentless killer. I’d have to convince the adults and children to allow no stranger within twenty feet.

  The old man I’d spoken with earlier wasn’t in sight as I passed his house and I didn’t call for him. Passing the farm with the cows, I retrieved the bucket of eggs. I did stop in front of Missus Smelts house to shout, but she didn’t appear.

  Arriving at the cabins, I went to the big one. There, I shouted to let them know I was back and was leaving eggs on the steps. Then shouted I was tired and going to bed.

  The sun was an hour set when I opened the door to my cabin. It was chill inside, but not cold enough for a fire. The long day and twenty-mile hike had done for me. Shucking my boots, I lay down clothed, pulled my blankets over me and shut my eyes.

  ************

  Bright sunshine streamed through the windows and woke me. The chill of the night was gone. I’d not lit a fire, but the cabin felt too warm. Through the window that faced the large cabin, morning dew rose as steam from its roof. Everyone was outside wandering around the yard as if dazed.

  I opened the door and felt the heat. The temperature on the thermometer attached to the hinge-side trim read seventy-three degrees.

  Vikas came over to my front stoop. He waved a handheld instrument at me. “So warm unnatural I felt the need to check for radiation. There is none.”

  Looking at the sky, the clouds covering the sky were thin and translucent. I noticed the weird way they resembled the bark on a persimmon tree, like alligator hide, except white.

  I pointed to the sky. “Five years ago I saw clouds just like these after a hurricane down in the gulf. The wind’s coming from the right direction.”

  “You think it is the warm from the hurricane.”

  “Yes, blowing in from the tropics. That time it happened, after clouds like these we had one hell of a storm. We’d better spend the day bringing in wood and making sure everything’s battened down.”

  John had caught the tail end of the conversation. “I remember that storm; hail the size of golf balls. It spawned tornados all along its path. They missed us, but it obliterated Enville, eight or nine miles from here. The storms and rain lasted three days and all the creeks ran high. Do you remember how it turned cold after the storms?”

  I remembered the hail, but not it turning cold, so I said, “Yeah, but every storm’s different. Heck, with the nuclear bombs and climate change, winter could be over or it could come back and stay for years. What we should do is prepare for at least soaking rain and high winds.”

  John nodded, “We’ll want to close the barn doors and make sure none of the vehicles are parked where limbs can fall on em. If the storms get bad… if they threaten tornados, we can hunker down in the storm shelter behind my house.”

  “Good idea. Vikas and I will take care of the barn and vehicles. While we’re over there we’ll put water and ready to eats in the shelter. You and the others get things ready here.”

  Preeja had joined the group. “We will need more charcoal to top the kindling. The small wood burns in the stove very fast for the night.”

  In my mind, I saw only two or three bags of charcoal remaining in the barn. “We’ll bring what’s left, but we’ll need to conserve until we can resupply.”

  Preeja replied, “Yes. For the future, we will burn only the wood at day. Today I will make the big meal for lunch and you will tell us of your trip.”

  Annette was with the children. I called to her, “Rifle at the ready. Vikas and I are going to the barn.”

  She threw me a salute. “I’m eyes and ears.”

  Walking to the barn, Vikas held silent, at the barn he went straight to questions about what I’d found out on my walk the day before.

  “I only want to tell it once. It’ll keep until we eat. Let’s get this done. I will tell you this. The plague killed everyone at the community." …All but the one I’d hurried along, but that was my business… “I want you to hear this well. Impress on Preeja and especially the children to allow no stranger within twenty feet of them. Tell Preeja to shoot em. Tell your children to run from them.”

  “Yes, Tempest, I understand and will impress them. The plague killed all; not one survivor?”

  “Not one.” I waved to the van, “We only need to move the van and tractor. Put the van next to the four-wheeler. I’ll put the tractor inside the barn. Join me in there. Close the back door on your way in.”

  We carried two cases of bottled water and three cases of Billy’s MRE’s to John’s shelter. I hoped we wouldn’t have need of it. It was a narrow affair and not very deep.

  Placing the water against the back wall, Vikas said, “It is tiny in here.”

  I had to agree, “Yeah, with all of us in here, we’d have to take turns sitting.”

  Preeja served a meal using fresh eggs, mushrooms, rice and other ingredients. My belch at the end of my plate full brought a sound of disgust from Annette and a smile from Preeja. Perhaps belching was okay in India.

  After the meal, with the children sent out to play and us sitting in lawn chairs to watch over them, I told them the details of my trip to the community and repeated the warning I’d given Vikas concerning strangers.

  Annette said, “Wow, this plague is a real monster. So, what’s the rule; challenge them, tell them to halt? If they keep coming, shoot em?”

  “What if it’s a child, or a woman?” Bella asked.

  Annette said, “It was an infected kid that killed everyone at the community.”

 

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