Engineer Benson - 11. Engineer Benson - July 28, 1993

July 28, 1993 Tuesday, 820 AM

Well, someone finally asked the question out loud.

We were having a (surprisingly good) breakfast of starchy porridge made from cattail root, butter, honey, and early-ripening berries we'd gathered. Lisa spoke at a lull in conversation as most of us scraped our bowls for the last bits of food.

"How long, do you think?" She asked, her eyes shifting between Mark and Mister Buck. "How long before the army gets control of things and we go back to normal?"

It was a good, exceedingly important question but one that might prove uncomfortable to answer.

Mr. Buck wiped his mouth and elbowed Mark. "Yer the military man. What do ya think?"

Mark leaned back in his chair. In his eyes, he deliberated over how much to say.

"Just tell me," Lisa smiled, seeming far older than she was. I wouldn't ask if I wasn't ready for bad news."

Erin reached and gripped her daughter's arm, a grim pride on display in her expression.

"Okay." Mark put his elbows on the table. "General McGrew, on the radio. We've all heard the repeating message now." We nodded, and he continued. "The army doesn't ask citizens to take up arms unless they don't have control and unless they don't expect to anytime soon. This means we can't expect help from the government to come to us - at least not soon."

We mulled that over, and then Garrett said, "We're not far from Louisville. Shouldn't the army have control of the city since that's where they were taking people?"

Mark turned knowing eyes on him. "I'd have to guess the opposite. That's where they took most of the sick folks. Most of those turned into those things. I think the army ended up concentrating their enemy in one place. So, if anything, Louisville is crawling with the things."

Silence reigned for half a minute; then, Mister Buck cleared his throat. "But we're alive." He turned to the kids. "We're alive, we're here, and we're making it through this." He tapped the edge of his bowl. "We just had a good breakfast of mostly things we gathered ourselves. With the solar and the well, we can live comfortably and even offer a place fer others."

"That's the truth," MaryAnne smiled with the sleeping baby Hope in her arms.

Buck grinned and continued. "We'll keep looking fer those we can help. We might be uniquely suited to doin' that, thanks to Mark and Wayne." He blinked. "Ah, sorry if I'm talking out of turn, boys."

"Not at all," I replied. "So long as people are willing to contribute, I don't see a reason to turn anybody away."

"The more of us there are, the more food and water we'll need to get by." Mark considered. "But the more hands we'll have to get those things too." He looked at Lisa. "So, to answer you as well as I'm able - I don't know when the army will get control. But the way I see things, we don't need them to. Buck has it right - we're doing it on our own here. We need to keep doing what we're doing and assume we'll have to do it without help."

Lisa took it all in. After a few moments, an unexpected grin split her face. "So, it looks like summer break will be a bit longer."

Mark returned her grin. "It looks that way, yeah." He turned to Mr. Buck. "How big of a garden do you think we can get away with? Are there ways to get more food out of the same amount of land? If we're to take more people in, then we'll need to be able to feed all of us."

"We can probably extend the garden another twenty feet - right up against the fence. And there are ways to increase yields. We need to start composting anything organic that we don't use." He smiled. "That includes our waste. It can be done safely, and I know how."

"Fun." Erin wrinkled her nose.

"Yeah." I scratched my chin. That means composting toilets. That'll save water, at least. We don't know how fast the well refills, and that'd take some strain off our water supply."

The room quieted. I can't speak for anybody else but I was busy thinking about what comes next.

Erin took a big breath. "Okay. So, we're on our own until proven otherwise, and we're looking for others to help." She looked around. ""We can do that. We're doing it now."

"Yep." Buck got up, his bowl in hand. "Thanks fer breakfast, ladies." He jerked his chin at Garrett. "Come 'ere - we're on dish duty."

"Yes, sir." Garrett got up, gathered our dishes, and joined Buck in the kitchen.

"Wayne, let's pull out the map and decide on our next supply run." Mark stood.

"Sounds good."

So, that's what we're doing. I'll be back to write more later.

July 28, 1993 Tuesday, 910 AM

Okay, so we've got a trip planned into town today.

We need more construction materials if we're going to build a cabin for Mark and me. The biggest things we need are wood, foundation material, and basic but necessary things like windows and fittings for the bathroom, kitchen, etc. I've started a list, which is growing like mad as we think of things.

During our first trip to the hardware store, we snagged lots of electrical wire, some outlets, and a dozen wall switches, so that's handled. We've got boxes of nails and such, too, but we need to figure out a way to do more with fewer things we can't make ourselves.

We've been looking at Garrett's book on cabin building, and while we'll need finished lumber for lots of stuff, we can get the outer walls done with some of the small, straight trees sprinkled around the farm. A 16'x16' cabin should be enough, with the second floor dedicated to a bedroom and additional storage. We'll make sure the front faces south so we end up with lots of passive solar, too. That means the cabin is going against the northern fence wall. That'll be more roof space for panels once we get that far.

I never thought I'd see the day, but our stack of panels is pretty small now. We've only got twelve out of forty left. Luckily, everything I've installed works fine, and we've not lost any during installation. These things have been a godsend. While the twenty-eight we've currently got up are overkill for our power needs during the summer, I expect that will change in the winter. We'll need every one we can get, and even then, we'll have to watch our power use. The fridge and freezer CAN'T be allowed to go offline. If we ever hear the backup generator kick on, we'll know the batteries are empty. Luckily, we've got enough gas to run the genny for a few days if we have to.

I had an idea rattling around - that we might have to go to Louisville and find SolTec's production facility in the industrial zone if we grow much more. I know there have to be lots of finished panels there. But the thought of going to Louisville is terrifying yet fills me with hope all at once. If any government has survived in the state, it'll be there. But if not, I imagine the place will be full of zombies since so many sick folks got sent there and since it is such a big city. Regardless of which, we'll likely have to go. It's either do that or rely on some other power generation system. Huh. I could rig up some wind turbines if I had some electric motors. I know the theory well enough, but I've never actually built one. Eh, that's a worry for another day.

Back to the topic at hand. We're headed back to the hardware store, but we're visiting the lumberyard this time. Both wood and some windows are stored there, so we'll see what they have. We plan to load up the trailer with all it'll take, and I'll see if there are any tools or appliances we need too. I've also been told we're running low on toilet paper and toothpaste, so we'll raid a house or two for those.

Mark, Erin, and I are on this run. MaryAnne will watch Hope here at home. She and the kids are in charge of lunch, while Buck will get his new tomato starts and the squash vine he found at MaryAnne's place planted. He's planning to turn over another twenty feet of soil to extend the garden too. We've got the walkie-talkies, and so long as we're close, we'll be able to talk. Though they'll cut out after we reach the main road, they're still nice to have. Now I wonder if I can rig up a repeater for the signal. Damn it. I need to stop coming up with projects for myself - there's already more to do than a man can get to.

Of course, any food we come across while raiding houses near the hardware store is fair game, too. The more canned/dry goods we find, the better. And with the trailer, we have the room for it.

Okay. It's now just after 930, and we're headed out. Till next time.

July 28, 1993 Tuesday, 445 PM

The trip into town was a success in a few ways. We made it to the lumberyard without incident and killed the half-dozen zombies wandering behind the high chain-link fence protecting the yard.

Once inside, we closed the gate and felt pretty secure. Yeah, the dead could see us if they wandered past, but it’d have taken a lot of banging on a strong fence set with concrete to knock it down. So we got to work and loaded the van full of new windows while the trailer got stacked to capacity with high-quality lumber. I've got my eyes on that fence too. If we clipped it off the posts, we'd have hundreds of feet of 8' tall chain link fencing. Roll it up, and we could haul it off in the trailer. Maybe a project for another day - after we've completely cleared the place of useful materials.

Our next stop was back to the Giga-mart in town. Some newly emptied shelves since our last trip meant other survivors were around. They took some high-calorie stuff—candy, chips, soda, and such. They left the dry goods alone, so we grabbed oats, rice, more flour, cornmeal, beans, and sugar, then moved on to butter. The salted butter had gone soft, but it didn't smell rancid. All that fat and the salt preserved it against rot, though it'd not have lasted much longer in those warm fridges. Still, we scored about twenty pounds of the stuff. We'll have to freeze most of it, but it's nice to have.

We only had to get through four zombies in the store. At this point, four zombies are routine for Mark and me, and with Erin, it was no problem at all. After we killed them, Mark put the story together, using the broken windows, the shards of glass in the zombies, and the dirty boot prints scrambling out of the place.

"See here." He pointed at the bootprint near the pried-open automatic doors. "See how they're smeared? Somebody was in a hurry to leave, probably got seen by this lot," he motioned at the still bodies on the floor. "Who came through the windows after 'em." He stood. "We've got more survivors in town—at least one. Or, we did, at least. Hopefully, they got away somewhere safe."

Erin said, "There are no bodies with boots that match the prints, so they at least made it out of the store. That's reassuring."

"Yeah. The bootprints are about as big as mine, but with what they took, the candy and junk food, you gotta wonder if it's a kid or something." Mark said.

"They might not have had much time," I added, nodding toward the dead zombies. "Probably not enough to think, and they took what was handy."

It is a puzzle, but not one we have to solve right away. Though, like Erin, I'm happy knowing other folks are alive in town.

We found some other sundry items as well. Toilet paper, toothpaste, soap, that kinda stuff. Oh, and since we were in that aisle, I grabbed a big bottle of lotion, too.

I glanced at Erin as I dropped it into my bag. "You know … for ah, dry skin."

"Yeah." Mark bumped me. The lecherous grin on his face didn't help anything. "I'm feeling really dry myself if you know what I mean."

"Oh my god." Erin shook her head and walked ahead of us, her spear on guard. "You two are terrible!"

She's not wrong. Haha.

We headed back home shortly after and spent the next half hour putting everything away.

Now it's getting close to dinner time, and we're hungry, so I'll see if I can help Mary-Anne and the kids with things.

And … maybe Mark and I can find some time to try out that lotion tonight. God, we really need our own cabin.

Till next time.

July 29, 1993 Wednesday, 315 AM

Holy crap. We have company. VERY interesting company.

Around 230 AM, we woke up to pounding on our gate and yelling outside our little compound. Everybody but Mary Anne and the baby rushed out into the yard in various stages of undress, each armed and ready.

"Please! They're behind me! Please, let me in! Oh, god. Oh god!"

Mark moved first. He rushed forward and opened the gate.

A filthy, skinny, bedraggled man with spectacles fell into the protection of our yard. Mark swiftly assessed the threat beyond the gate.

"A dozen, maybe more." He gripped his knife. "This many could knock the walls down. We have to deal with them."

We poured out barefoot, in underwear and nightshirts. I ended up beside Buck and his bat. We spaced just far enough apart to avoid hitting each other, and then they were on us.

I admit, the fight wasn't as clean as it could have been. Mark took a risk when he darted forward with his blade to protect Erin from one that had gotten close, leaving himself open to another behind it. But luckily, Erin lunged with her spear and ended it before it could do any damage.

It was over in less than a minute. Panting, we checked for any others and saw none.

"Inside." Buck's low voice called for no argument, and we instantly obeyed. The bar went back across the gate, and we all breathed heavily behind the protective barrier.

"Garrett," Buck pointed. "Take that bow and get on those boxes to peek over the wall. We know noise attracts 'em, so keep an eye out."

"Yes, sir." Garrett smoothly did as ordered and scanned the area just beyond the walls.

"The rest, let's get inside." His dark eyes landed on the newcomer still sprawled on the grass. The man seemed stunned as if trying to convince himself that he was still alive. "You included."

The fellow blinked and stared up at us. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry for bringing them to your door." He stood and adjusted his glasses. "Thank you."

"That'll wait. Let's get inside to talk."

After we dressed and Garrett came inside, we settled around our table.

"What's your name, and are you hungry?" Erin asked.

"Ye… yes." The man nodded. "Yes. I've been hungry for a week. I've had nothing but chocolate and crisps, and now even those are gone. My name is Jake."

"How'd you find us, Jake?" Mark asked.

"The Gigamart. I'd taken shelter in an upstairs apartment across the street. I heard your van and watched you go into the place. I had just come from there, stealing whatever I could, but some… zombies ran me off. Anyway, I watched you leave, and from my vantage point, I could barely see you turn the corner and head toward the fire station. I waited till dark, then sneaked out. I thought maybe you were sheltering at the station, but there are only more of those things there. I kept walking, and I was seen. It took everything I had not to panic. I walked as fast as I could and ran into another group coming down the road. I had no choice but to turn down this long driveway." He shook his head. "It was blind luck. If I had not run into the group on the road, I'd have kept going. And I'd probably be dead."

"You're British?" Lisa asked and carefully studied our guest.

"Ah. Yes." The fellow cleared his throat. "I was here visiting when all this … well when all this happened."

"Visiting," Lisa repeated. She glanced around the table and then returned to Jake. This is a funny place for international travel."

Jake whitened slightly. "Ah, well," he straightened as Erin delivered a bowl of leftover dinner, fresh from the microwave - beans, mustard greens, wild onion, and shredded game bird. "Oh, that smells like heaven."

Buck held out a hand. "Before you start on that, the girl has a point." He leaned forward. "What's a Brit doin' in our neck of the woods?" He wrinkled his nose. "An' why is your voice so familiar?"

"Ah, I… well, all British probably sound the same to you, right?" Jake chuckled nervously, glancing at the faces around him. He wet his lips. "But it's a fair question." He nodded. "I was contracted to work a job here. I ah, I work in …" he glanced at Lisa. The girl's knowing stare must have shaken him because he slumped in the chair and sighed. "Okay. Okay. I … was working with the army. I'm a virologist. I was trying to help them get a handle on this thing."

He was shaking, and we all stared. He looked up with pleading eyes. "You have to believe me. Please. I've heard the people on the radio blaming the army for the virus. I swear, I was just trying to help fix it all. I was called in to fix it - first by the CDC, then I was sent here to help."

"You were the one on WBLN." Lisa smiled slightly. "Dr. Jake Wilson. I watched TV till it stopped broadcasting." Her voice went cold. "You said the army had it under control."

"Of course I did!" Jake laughed, though it was tinged with mania. "Do you think they'd have let me say anything else?" He shook his head. "No. Even though I was terrified that this exact thing was coming, I couldn't say so." He slumped. "General McGrew, he'd have had my head on a platter. No, I'm sorry, but I had to tow the line."

Silence reigned for a good thirty seconds, then Buck spoke. "I don't think there's much value in 'should haves, ' so I'll ask this instead." Those dark eyes glittered in the light of the lamp in the kitchen. "What do ya plan to do now about the problem ya helped create?"

"But, I didn-"

"Ya may not have known exactly what the army was doing or what this thing is. Hell, the army might not even be at fault." Buck stood, looming over the tiny scientist. "But ya didn't get the word out. Ya knew this could blow up, and ya lied to the world because some bastard with a few stars on his collar told ya to." His knuckles whitened as he gripped the table's edge, and one of his fingers popped. "A lot of people might have lived. My … Louise might have lived had we known. Had we been able to prepare." Buck breathed deeply and slowly released it. "So, I'll ask again. What do ya plan to do about the problem that yer silence made worse?"

Jake stared down at the bowl of food on the table before him. "Do you believe that I'm not haunted?" He gazed up at Buck, loss and regret in his eyes. "I have … I had a family." He took a shaky breath. "I thought I was doing the right thing." He shook his head. "But now. Now I know what a mistake it was. And you ask what I'll do about it." Once more, he looked Buck in the eye. "I'll spend the rest of my life trying to fix it for all of us who are left and for those who come after. I want to fix it." He wet his lips. "I … don't know if it's possible, but I must try."

They stared at one another for another moment, and then Buck straightened. "Ya won't cure the world on an empty belly." He motioned at the bowl. "Eat. Garrett, you can have the battery shed, an' I'll take yer tent. Jake here will get the couch, an' we'll figure out more permanent arrangements in the mornin' if this is to be a longer stay fer our guest."

Garrett insisted he'd take the tent to camp in the yard, and he did. Jake is now curled up on the couch with an old blanket and a full stomach, sleeping as only the exhausted can. Regardless of anything else, he had been on the run from a horde of undead and barely survived it.

I'm not sure how we're all feeling about him at the moment, but Mark seems to think the man was following orders, and that's a powerful thing when you're dealing with the military. "You trust those with more rank to know what's going on and to have a plan," Mark had said to me after we were alone. "His story makes sense in that respect."

One thing is sure - you can't fake the self-loathing Jake feels. It's plain. And even if he'd have spoken out, the army would have denounced and sent him away. Could he have made a difference in this? I don't know.

Regardless, he's a virologist. I don't know what he can do without a lab full of equipment, but we'll get to that. He has what is important - enough expertise and training to be sought-after by both the CDC and the army. And he managed to survive this long somehow. Insider knowledge likely helped there since he was part of trying to manage this … outbreak with the army, but I don't blame the man for using that advantage to stay alive.

We've got more talking to do with Doctor Jake. But at the moment, a sleepy Mark wants me to lay back down with him.

Till next time.