Seven Days: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel Read online

  “Oh, sorry, I was just admiring the picture-perfect sky,” he said. “Did you ask a question?”

  “The ocean, tell me about it,” Hannah said.

  “The Pacific Ocean, the only one I’ve been to, is immense. It’s the largest ocean in the world. When you sit on the beach, the ocean roars as the waves come crashing in. The air around smells salty, like briny. Seagulls soar above, many coasting on the ocean breezes. When you look out, you can see nothing for as far as the eye can see.”

  “Is it like looking out on the plains to the north, but it’s just water instead?” she asked.

  “Sorta,” he replied. “You’ve seen the pictures in books.”

  “I know, but I like hearing you talk about it…it reminds me of when you and Mom met.”

  “Ah, yes, me and your mother,” he said, smiling. His thoughts transported him back to a time and place long gone. “Our first date we walked on the beach in Del Mar. We watched the sunset; it was so nice.”

  “How did you meet?” she asked even though she had already been told the story numerous times.

  “I’ve told you this story a thousand times,” he said, giving her a smirk.

  She wiped her hands on her jeans and sat back on her heels. “I like hearing it.”

  “If you want,” he said.

  “I feel closer to Mom,” she said.

  That was all Reid needed to hear. “We met at a bookstore. I was there to find a gift for a friend. I literally bumped into her in an aisle. We instantly began talking, and it led from there.”

  “What book were you looking for?” Hannah asked. It was a question she’d never asked before.

  Reid searched his thoughts and said, “I picked up a classic by Michael Crichton. It was called Eaters of the Dead.”

  “Is it a good book?” she asked, genuinely curious, her blue eyes staring at him with anticipation.

  “It is a good book. I haven’t read it in a long time, but I recall enjoying it,” Reid answered.

  “Hmm, I’ll ask Ms. Pettigrew at the library if they have a copy,” Hannah said. She put her gloves back on and began to pull weeds.

  “Your mom and I talked so much in the aisle that we took our conversation to the café nearby and then to a restaurant on the beach. Afterwards we walked and watched the sunset,” Reid said.

  “Sounds like a fairy tale,” she mused.

  He gazed at her small frame. Her dirty-blond hair and doey eyes reminded him so much of Evelyn. She was her mother’s daughter for sure, although Evelyn’s hair had been a light brown. What she did have was his striking jaw; yes, it wasn’t a trait you’d normally want for a girl, but it did fit her face and gave her a unique and beautiful look. “It was a fairy tale.”

  Hannah sat up and wiped the sweat from her face with a rag and smiled. “Sounds wonderful. I want to see the ocean one day.”

  “One day you just might,” Reid said, although he doubted that would ever occur.

  “I hope so. I’m jealous that so many people got to experience all these wonderful things and I didn’t,” Hannah groaned.

  He glanced in her direction and frowned. He felt for her situation. She had never known life outside the walls of Deliverance. And though he sometimes desired for her to see more, he knew that the world he wanted to show her was gone, replaced by a harsh landscape of death and disease. It was easy to forget how lucky they were living behind the twenty-foot walls made mostly of corrugated sheet metal and dotted with watchtowers every few hundred feet. They didn’t know the realities of the world, leaving some to take their life for granted and complain. Then a wanderer would appear at the gates and remind them of how fortunate everyone was inside Deliverance.

  “Did you hear they’re airing a movie tonight in the park?” Hannah asked.

  Reid shook off his dark thoughts and replied, “No, I hadn’t heard.” He marveled at Hannah’s vocabulary and manner of speaking. If he didn’t know her and only heard her voice, he’d assume she was six years older. He chalked that up to the education she received at school. Even with the responsibilities every person had in town, a classical education, such as reading, writing, math and science, was taught to the children. This was on top of the practical skills they learned, from agriculture, mechanics, and animal husbandry to advanced first aid and even self-defense.

  “They’re showing a movie called Shrek; it’s animated, Ms. Brown says it’s a funny movie for all ages,” Hannah said.

  “I’ve seen it, and she’s right,” Reid said, recalling the first time he’d seen the movie.

  “I’m excited. Can we make cookies to share?” Hannah asked.

  Reid reached for a tool and felt a muscle tug in his lower back. He grunted and said, “I don’t know how, but I tweaked my back.”

  “You should stretch more. Ms. Brown tells us that flexibility is key; we not only need mindset and fitness, but flexibility is a key element to survival,” Hannah said, repeating a lesson she’d recently learned.

  He rubbed the spot and said, “Ms. Brown is right.”

  “Dad, what did you do before?” Hannah asked.

  “I told you.”

  “Can you tell me again?”

  He chuckled and said, “You, my sweet girl, are full of endless questions. How about we just pull these weeds and get the garden looking good?”

  Hannah shook her head and said, “You know I like to talk. You said I got that from Mom.”

  “You did, and I normally enjoy our chats and all your questions, but at the moment I just want to think.”

  A look of concern spread across her face. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing, now please put your focus on the garden,” he stressed.

  “Okay.” She sighed.

  A tall man approached, his shadow casting long. He removed a ball cap, scratched the bald spot on his head, and said, “Reid Flynn?”

  Reid looked over his shoulder. He’d seen the man before but couldn’t say he knew him. In fact, he didn’t even know his name. It was an odd thing to live in the same town for nine plus years without ever leaving and still not know everyone. “Yeah.”

  “My name is Lance. Dr. Stone sent me. She is requesting to see you later today. She’s currently in a meeting, but sometime around five would be perfect for her,” the man said.

  Hearing that Dr. Stone wanted to see him, he suddenly realized where he’d seen the man before, and that was alongside Kincaid and the other council members. His name was Lance Weld and he worked for the council. “What’s this about?”

  “She’ll explain that to you in person,” Weld replied.

  Reid gave Hannah a funny look and said, “Will you be okay finishing up here alone? I need to get cleaned up.”

  “I’ll be fine, but when I get done, can I go play with Allister and Olivia?”

  “Sure, just be back by dark, and don’t go near the fence or the culverts,” he warned. The culverts he referenced had been placed a short time after the walls were erected. When the first heavy rain came, it was discovered that the town needed additional drainage. Besides their obvious use, the culverts became an area for children to gather and play. Reid didn’t like the area and forbade Hannah from going there. The ends of the culverts were grated off with rebar, preventing anyone from climbing through, yet Reid didn’t like them and considered it an unsafe place.

  “I promise we won’t go there,” Hannah said.

  “Good, then go play with your friends. I’ll see you for dinner later,” he said, getting to his feet and wiping off his hands. “Mr. Weld, tell Dr. Stone I’ll be there.”

  Weld looked at his watch and said, “Very good and, Mr. Flynn, please don’t be late.”

  Reid turned to go into his house, stopped and asked, “You can’t tell me anything about what I’m being summoned for?”

  “I can tell you this, if it wasn’t important, she wouldn’t ask to see you,” Weld replied.

  ***

  Kincaid skimmed through a copy of the man’s journal. “What am I
looking at?” he asked Kaitlyn Stone, a member of the city council and a molecular physicist by trade.

  Kaitlyn Stone stood at the end of the long rectangular table, her lean arms folded. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail with the end draping over her left shoulder. Her tall slender frame made it difficult to dress given the limited supply of women’s clothes her size. She pointed to the sketches the traveler had made and said, “These are what I have found interesting.”

  Kincaid held the sketches and looked at them intently. “It looks like a shoreline, a beach. I don’t understand.”

  Kaitlyn leaned close and said, “There, that’s a helicopter.”

  “Yeah, so what?” Kincaid said.

  “Look at the date. It’s from five years ago,” Kaitlyn said.

  “I still don’t get the significance. The man sketches well, almost looks like a picture. He’s a talent, that’s for sure,” Kincaid said, looking up from the sketch at Kaitlyn then to the other council members gathered in the conference room.

  “That’s military. That tells us they were operational five years ago, and it ties in with the report we got from the last group about a government facility on an island off of California,” Kaitlyn said.

  “And you’re sure this is California?” Kincaid asked, his eyes carefully scanning the sketch.

  “According to the man, he said he saw the helicopter in the air heading east, and he was on the coast next to Camp Pendleton, a Marine Corps base,” Kaitlyn said.

  “So what? There could have been Marines or other military operational then, doesn’t say anything about there being a government facility where they developed a cure or that the government this day is up and running,” Kincaid said. He put down the material and leaned back in his chair, the metal squeaking under his weight. Kincaid was a large man. He towered over six feet three inches and had a lean muscular build, which he kept fit by daily exercise. He folded his arms and said, “Dr. Stone, the last time we heard these rumors, the people of Deliverance thought there was hope that they’d be saved or that the old world would come back; it won’t. Why do people after nine years still grasp for some glimmer of yesterday? That world is gone, vaporized by the nuclear warheads or wiped out from the dog flu. Whoever made it past that is trying to do what we’re doing, survive.”

  “I say we send a reconnaissance patrol to the California coast,” Kaitlyn said, walking to a whiteboard mounted on the wall. She took a marker in her hands and hastily drew the southern California coast. “Before I came in here, I found a map. There are islands off the coast. They’re called the Channel Islands. Many of you have heard of Catalina Island; it’s a tourist destination, or was. There are other major islands that could be suitable for a government facility, and before the war, two were used as military training sites. Those were San Clemente Island and San Nicholas Island. Those are viable locations, and we should go find out if that rumor is true.”

  The room erupted in crosstalk as everyone began to openly challenge or agree with Kaitlyn’s proposal and theory.

  “Everyone, please quiet down,” Kincaid said, waving his arms.

  The room grew quiet, with Kaitlyn standing silent in front of the whiteboard, her arms folded again.

  “Why?” Kincaid asked.

  “Why should we go?” she replied with her own question.

  “Exactly. Why? We’re doing well here. Because of all our hard work and the cooperation of the people of Deliverance, we aren’t just making it, we’re flourishing.”

  Kaitlyn furrowed her brow and replied, “Because we should see what’s going on out there. See if—”

  “See if what? We know the world is shit, that many have died, and that the government or help isn’t coming, ever. And what exactly would they help us with? We have everything we need. We have food, water, safety and energy, thanks to Joe,” Kincaid said, giving a nod to Joe Donaldson, who was sitting across from him and was also a member of the council.

  “But—” Kaitlyn said before she was interrupted by Kincaid again.

  “But what? Why? We’ve sent numerous recon patrols over the years. None have returned, not one, and what did we gain? Nothing. What did we lose? A lot. We lost good men for nothing. We used the last of our good fuel back then, and even if we used the degraded fuel we have now, we don’t have that many vehicles that will operate well on it. It’s not like we have an endless motor pool of pre-1974 vehicles. You and I both know that old gas won’t run any of the modern vehicles lying around. Hell, even when we got them started, and that was tough, they ran shitty and stopped. All they’re good for now is to be looked upon as monuments to the past. And is the person going on patrol going to clean the carburetors each time he fuels up? So if we don’t let them use one of our older trucks, how would this patrol even get there? On foot?” He cleared his throat and continued, “Those earlier patrols proved one thing to me and that was the world is probably worse than we imagine.”

  “Mayor, we need to try. If there’s a cure, we should go get it,” Kaitlyn said.

  “We haven’t had a case of the dog flu in eight years. Our protocols have worked, and the only way we risk bringing a case of the flu inside these gates is by letting people in or by having our people leave and return. Why go look for something we don’t need? And tell me, who would we send?”

  “I have someone in mind who has been to those islands,” she replied. “I’m meeting with him later today. But let’s all be honest here, we’ve had many people up until recently who have showed up at the gates sick or talked about the virus still being around.”

  “But if we keep our protocols, we should be fine,” Kincaid shot back. “By the way, who is this man?”

  “I’d rather not say just yet,” Kaitlyn replied.

  “Fair enough,” Kincaid said. “Let me say, though, that I believe this is foolhardy and could be inviting trouble more than helping us. You’ll need to give me a truly compelling reason besides finding a mystical cure for the dog flu.”

  Frustrated, Kaitlyn opened her mouth to rebut Kincaid but decided against it.

  Seeing that she had something to say, Kincaid said, “Go ahead, Dr. Stone. Please tell us what’s on your mind.”

  “Mayor, I understand what you’re saying, but we should at least try. What if there is a cure? What if parts of our infrastructure have been reestablished? And just because we haven’t had a case doesn’t mean one won’t occur. For all we know, it might have mutated and birds could carry it.”

  “Birds?” Kincaid laughed. “Listen, I’m not laughing that it might not one day mutate, but if it did, whatever cure is out there probably won’t do a thing against the mutated version. I was elected then reelected by the good people of Deliverance because I have kept them safe. We need to also think of what happens if our recon patrol encounters people who don’t know we exist. What if after finding out we’re here, they come and try to take what we have? Have you ever considered that?”

  She shook her head.

  Several others in the room blurted out, “He’s right,” and others commented, agreeing with Kincaid.

  “Dr. Stone, don’t get me wrong, I would love to know what’s happening out there. It’s why we created protocol three, but I don’t want to send any more patrols and risk their lives or ours if they result in others finding out we exist,” Kincaid said.

  “Can you at least consider it?” Kaitlyn asked.

  Kincaid relaxed further into his chair and rubbed his chin. He thought more about the potential of having a cure on hand just in case something were to happen in Deliverance. “I’ll tell you what, Dr. Stone, if you can provide more information that proves making the trip would be worth it, I’ll give it serious consideration, but I won’t make any promises.”

  “I’ll take that,” Kaitlyn said.

  Vince Pardo, a council member and the town’s mortician, said, “What else did the traveler’s journal say? We’ve been talking about that sketch but nothing else.”

  Kaitlyn frowned and
said, “Ruins, death, disease, starvation and cannibals—everything we’ve heard before.”

  “Cannibals? Do you really believe people would resort to such things even after all these years?” Vince asked, his face showing his disgust for such an act.

  “People are capable of all sorts of despicable acts when separated from morality,” Kincaid replied.

  “I can understand a person or two being desperate, but roving bands of them purposely hunting fellow humans?” Vince asked. He wanted confirmation for himself that such an idea was not merely a rumor without validation.

  “Well, Vince, I don’t know that answer, but his journal does reference them to the west, and we’ve heard about them to the east, so we have to assume that, yes, people have resorted to their baser selves,” Kincaid answered. “And that’s why I’m skeptical about allowing another recon patrol to leave.”

  “Vile, to think people would conduct themselves that way as a way of life,” Vince groaned.

  OUTSKIRTS OF DALHART, TEXAS

  The first thing that hit Brienne’s senses was the stench. She fully opened her eyes to find she had been taken, something she’d tried her hardest to prevent.

  In the dimly lit space she saw others, many of whom huddled by themselves in the corner farthest away from the door.

  She stretched the neck of her shirt so it covered her nose, giving her a slight reprieve from the odor, which she now identified as feces, urine and rotting flesh. Gathering her wits, she scanned the space, to find the only access in and out of the room was through the door. She touched the wall to find it was made of sheet metal framed with large steel columns all bolted together. Slivers of daylight slithered through slim cracks in the door frame and along the seams of the siding. This told her two things: one, it was daytime, and two, the building was a stand-alone structure. If she could exit it, she had a chance of escaping.

  Looking to the people huddled in the far corner, she asked, “Where are we?”

  Her fellow prisoners, their skin gaunt and eyes sunken, gazed at her but didn’t reply.

  She got up and walked towards them. She tried to avoid the piles of feces that covered much of the concrete floor, but found it impossible. Stopping a few feet away, she asked, “Where are we?”