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2014 - Winter - Chain Reaction Entry

Allah's Revenge - 1. Allah's Revenge

p style="text-align:center;">In memory of
Aitor Guerricabeitia
1958-1990

 

[ g-eh-r-r-ih-kah-bAY-tih-ah ]

“Are you sure about this?”

“Completely certain. Even if there is an element of risk, we have to do it, Aitor. We can’t ignore a cry for help. Based on everything we’ve learned since leaving Canada, the danger is minimal. It has been over ten weeks since the original incident; we should be safe. The chances of him being sick and still alive are almost nonexistent.”

“I trust you, Lars. Just trying to be careful, babe. For both of us.”

“It’s the protective soldier in you, one of the many reasons why I love you. Go get your kill, that was a great shot; I’ll try to find our man.”

“Fire off a round if you need me,” said Aitor by way of good bye.

Lars Lundgren and Aitor Guerricabeitia had arrived in Alberta, Canada, at the beginning of August. Both men were avid outdoorsmen and planned on spending most of their annual holiday at Banff National Park in the Canadian Rockies. They would be backpacking nearly the entire trip, living off the land or what little they carried with them. It was to be a time without technology, a time to enjoy nature and each other’s company. Their new Apple satellite iComm was for use in an emergency; it was turned off and stored inside a waterproof case at the bottom of one of their packs.

Since they had become a couple, each summer holiday spent together had strengthened their relationship. The time away from the mundane allowed for new discoveries and new insights about and into each other. This year, their vacation was a bit longer and a bit more special: Aitor had retired from the military at the beginning of summer, and Lars had given up his teaching position at the university at the end of the last term. They planned on starting new careers in the fall after returning to Europe; of course, now that would not be happening.

The trip to North America had unknowingly begun a chain reaction of events in their lives, events which would see them survive when many others wouldn’t—events which, while leaving them alive, presented them with an uncertain and potentially dangerous future which would profoundly affect their relationship.

“MATE, where are you? Lars called out as he walked towards the area where he thought the voice asking for help had come from.

“OVER HERE, PLEASE HELP ME! I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up! I’M NOT SICK. PLEASE. You don’t have to worry about me; I’m not sick… I’m not sick... I’m… not… sick…” There was fear, desperation and relief in the voice, which had a distinct American southern drawl.

“Ah, there you are. Glad I don’t have to worry about you being sick, but aren’t you taking a big chance with me? How do you know I’m not?”

“Chances are that by now, everyone who was going to die is already dead, at least based on the news I heard before the radio stations stopped broadcasting. Considering I’d never survive the winter with this injury, I might as well take my chances. I’m Jessie, thank you for coming to help me.”

“You’re welcome, Jessie. Lars, here. Let’s take a look. Lucky for you I’m a doctor—a real one at that, none of that PhD in philosophy or some similar crap. What happened?”

“Ouch! A few of my professors would be mighty pissed at you for the cheap shot. I fell last night. Was trying to check the traps I’d set earlier in the day. Right after sunset I tripped over a hidden vine, tumbled down the hill and twisted my ankle. It’s swollen, I can’t put any pressure on it, and it hurts like a bitch. I hope it ain’t broken.”

“Let me check it out, if it’s swollen we don’t want to remove your boot right now or it may blow up in size.” Lars slowly extended the man’s leg and gently manipulated the foot while holding the calf.

“Fuck! That hurts! Sorry, sorry, I don’t wanna be a pussy, but after being alone for the last two months, I’m scared of everything. I came up here to hide, was planning on heading towards Gatlinburg before any snow fell. Sure as hell couldn’t make it now.”

“You got lucky, mate. My husband and I stopped to hunt, trying to get fresh meat to last us for the next week or so and to dry for future use. Guess you heard the shot, because you called for help right after Aitor hit the bull.”

“Your husband? Are you gay? I’m not! I’m straight!”

“Easy, big boy, easy. No need to be scared. Yes, I’m gay; coincidentally, so’s my husband! Is that a problem?”

“Nnnnno, just surprised me. I know stereotypes about gay people are wrong, but it’s not what I would have thought of about someone who looks like Thor!”

“Thor, eh? I think we’re tenth cousins twice removed, he and I. Wow, you smiled at my lame joke; good to see the furrow in your brow is not a permanent thing. I’m Swedish, which accounts for the genetic background that gives me my appearance. Here, put your arm around my shoulders, let’s get you over to the trail. The hubby can watch over you while he guts the elk. I’ll head to the truck, get an ACE bandage, pain pills, and one of our walking sticks to make it easier for you. I assume that’s your pack back there?”

“Yeah, thank you for helping me, sir. Sorry about my reaction when you mentioned your husband.”

Although it was a bit touristy, the two Europeans had decided to make the actual town of Banff the jump-off point for their adventure. After dealing with crowded trails for the first couple of days, they soon seemed to have the park to themselves. They traveled north and west, until they reached the Random Camping Area where no developed campsites or shelters were available.

Mother Nature provided sustenance in the way of roots, mushrooms, berries, fish, fowl and small mammals. They saw no need to hunt large game, as most of it would have gone to waste. Nature also provided entertainment in the form of majestic views, riots of colors in flora, fascinating antics of fauna and a cacophony of sounds which woke them each morning and helped lull them to sleep at night.

During the time spent in this remote wilderness, they met other travelers twice: spending a night camping in the same area as a young couple from Calgary and sharing a lunch of fresh-caught fish with three brothers from Edmonton.

As they neared the town again on the return leg of their journey, the lack of short trip or day hikers surprised them. This was prime tourist season, Banff had been packed with visitors when they departed five weeks before. Both were somewhat apprehensive about the lack of human activity, but Aitor more so. His military instincts told him the situation was not normal, and there might possibly be danger involved. He led them away from the marked trails and approached the northern edge of town through the woods. Using binoculars, he scoured the streets from a high point and could not detect any movement: no cars, no pedestrians, no anything. Something was terribly wrong.

The wind shifted and the horrible smell of putrefaction hit them; Lars’s medical training helped him realize such a strong smell could only come from a large number of decaying corpses. Not prepared to deal with any type of hazard which could kill so many beings, he pulled out their medical case, retrieved latex gloves for both of them and the small bottle of alcohol he had added to the usual individual wipes included in first-aid kits. Donning the sterile gloves, they added their hiking ones to protect the thin material and covered their noses and mouths with bandanas soaked in a mixture of water and alcohol.

The lovers agreed they needed information and a way to defend themselves from potential danger. Lars was worried about a biological or chemical agent, traditional warfare would not have left the town below looking as pristine and peaceful as it did. He felt they should begin their exploration at a health-care facility where they could obtain basic supplies and maybe information. Aitor wanted to get his hands on some sort of weapon.

They agreed on a veterinary clinic as the best choice: low chance of contagious bodies if they were dealing with an infectious agent, high probability of locating firearms or, at least, tranquilizer dart guns. Using their satellite unit, the men attempted to contact Emergency Services, the lodge where they had reservations for the next two nights and the travel office where they had booked their holiday. There had been no answers, but they were able to access Google Maps on their iComm and locate Banff Veterinary Clinic. At least some things were still working as expected.

About two and a half hours later, they were standing in the dog park across the street from the clinic. Located in a light-industrial area, the stand-alone structure appeared as empty as the rest of the area they had walked through. Aitor sprinted across the street, hunched down as close to the ground as possible until he reached the front of the edifice. He tried the front door, found it bolted shut, walked around the building and located a side entrance. No deadbolt, just a simple lock which easily collapsed when the muscular man kicked it with all his strength. After making sure the premises were empty, he opened the main door and motioned for Lars to join him.

“Figures you’d go off to help a poor soul screaming for help and return with a gorgeous young stud with his arm wrapped around your neck. Do I need to start worrying?”

“Please ignore the bloody wanker. He has a strange addiction to bad jokes. Jessie, this is my husband, Aitor Guerricabeitia, a nice Spaniard with a twisted sense of humour. Aitor, this is Jessie― Damn, what’s your last name, Jessie?”

“Cameron, sir, Jessie H. Cameron. Un placer, Señor Guerricabeitia.”

“My, my… Handsome, cute accent, well-mannered, y habla Español. I think you found a good one, babe. Where did you learn to speak Spanish so well, Jessie?”

“Back home, sir. I’m from Texas, over half the population there is Hispanic, so us smart white boys learn the language if we want to fit in and succeed.”

“Stay here and keep your ankle elevated, mate. I’m jogging down to the truck to fetch some supplies; I’ll be back shortly. Behave, Aitor!”

The GMC Yukon was right where they had left it earlier this morning: in the parking lot of the Oconaluftee Visitor Center, not that Lars would have expected anything different. There had been no signs of humans until finding the injured kid. They had spent the night in a motel in Cherokee, North Carolina, after scouting the nearby area, finding no bodies and no evidence of recent human activity. Even then, they had parked the truck in such a way as to block the flimsy door and the big glass window fronting the parking lot.

Lars opened the back, removed a medical emergency bag he had prepared and a spare walking stick before heading back to where Aitor and Jessie waited.

“Sorry if my joking made you uncomfortable, Jessie. My husband’s correct; I can be an idiot sometimes. He mouthed the word straight and pointed at you before he walked away. I hope us being a gay couple won’t be a problem for you.”

“No, sir, I was surprised when he first mentioned a husband, but It’s okay. We had some gay players on the baseball team back in school and they were cool guys. If I may ask you sir, how long have you two been together?”

“We met about six years ago while we were both assigned to NATO headquarters in Brussels. We dated, got to know each other and realized we wanted a relationship. When I went back home to Spain six months later, Lars followed and managed to get a teaching position at the Universitat de Barcelona Medical School. We moved in together, and a year later we were married.”

“You said you were at NATO headquarters when you met?”

“Lars was part of a group developing plans for aggressive vaccination programs in Third World countries, an effort to diminish the possibility of contagious agents spreading to member nations. I was part of the Spanish military delegation. Speak of the devil, welcome back, Doctor Lundgren.”

“Please tell me you haven’t been harassing our young friend?”

“No, sir, he hasn’t. We’ve been talking about how y’all met.”

“At least that’s a happy subject. You almost done, babe?”

“Yeah, I’ve carved enough for a few meals—even with Junior here joining us—and plenty to dry. Just did it rough, the bears are welcome to the rest. You gonna patch him up?”

“Not here. Just going to wrap his ankle over his boot to provide additional support and give him some pain killers. I’ll work on him back at the motel. You’ll need to strip so I can hose you down back at the Visitor Center; you’re not getting in the truck all bloody and smelly.”

“There you go, trying to get me naked again. See what I have to put up with, Jessie? The man’s a sex maniac!”

“Oh, shut up and start walking. Here, Jessie, hang on to me and use the walking stick, we’re less than half a kilometer away.”

Inside the animal clinic, Lars and Aitor began a methodical search of the place. While one looked for firearms or any sort of weapons, the other one inventoried medical supplies and began setting aside those he felt would be useful in an emergency. Certain pain killers, particularly Ketamine, and some antibiotics could be used on both animals and humans. Aitor located an old hunting rifle, two boxes of shells, a hand gun for tranquilizer darts and a small supply of the darts themselves.

Everything they thought could be useful set aside, the men sat in the lunch area in the back. They raided the refrigerator for any fresh food they could use and began scanning the old newspapers and magazines scattered around the room. Reading out loud to each other as they came to sections they felt were important, a picture of the events of the past month began to emerge.

As many in the West had suspected and feared, the religious fanatics running Iran had for years been engaged in research and development of not only nuclear weapons but chemical and biological ones also. Taking into account what was known about the Bubonic Plague epidemic of the Middle Ages, the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918, the AIDS crisis of the late twentieth century and the Ebola catastrophe of the early twenty-first―they created what came to be known as Allah’s Revenge.

It was a deadly cross between a virus and a retrovirus, with no known cure or vaccine and a short incubation period. Infected individuals were highly contagious from the moment of exposure. The pathogen’s one weakness was the short time it could exist outside a living human, the only known organism on the planet susceptible to it. Once the host expired or a period of approximately seven days elapsed, the killing agent died off.

“A Days Inn?” asked Jessie. “How come you chose this place? There are much nicer ones around.”

“Several reasons,” replied Aitor. “When we scouted the area, we liked the front not being visible from the main road, less chance of being detected this way. The wide walkway allowed us to park the truck in such a way as to block the front door and most of the glass window, providing additional security. We could not smell any decomposing bodies and found none when we searched the property, the electricity was on, and the ice maker was still working. May as well enjoy those amenities as long as we can. Finally, there’s a kitchen right next to the lobby which we can access through the back; it allows us to prep and cook meals for a few days; you never know when we’ll get such a nice setup again.”

“Wow, I guess that’s the military training paying off—always looking at all possible angles.”

“Yeah, he comes in handy once in a while,” added Lars, smiling. “Let’s get you inside before those pain killers wear off, I want to take your boot off and examine your ankle. Then you need to shower and put on some clean clothes my friend. You stink”

“I know. Sorry, sir, but I don’t have anything clean. Everything in my pack or on my Harley is dirty.”

“Your Harley? You have a motorcycle?”

“Yeah, that’s how I got up here.”

“Where is it? And what do you have in it?”

“I parked it and hid it behind the Harley-Davidson shop we passed on the way here. It has an extra gun, some ammo and a few supplies in the saddlebags and clothes, coats and blankets in a duffle bag on the luggage rack.”

“Here’s what we’ll do: let’s get you undressed; I’ll examine you, and then you can shower. I’ll wrap your ankle, lend you a pair of shorts to wear, and Aitor and I will go get your bike while you rest. We plan on spending some more days here, and tomorrow is laundry day. We’ll wash your stuff along with ours. We’ll also go through your pack and luggage, get rid of what you won’t need anymore and repack it properly so it will be easier to travel with. This may hurt a bit as I remove your boot, ok?”

“Those pills you gave me are working fine. I’m not in pain at all.”

“Hmmmm, nothing broken but not as good as I had hoped. Pretty sure you sprained it, can’t properly asses the severity without an X-ray, but I’d say it’s a mild one. Slight change of plan: you can’t put any pressure on it unless it’s wrapped well, so that means a bath. Can’t risk you falling down and hurting yourself.”

“Shit, I ain’t had one of those since I was a kid. You sure I can’t just lean against the wall while I clean up?”

“Nope. Normally I’d say either Aitor or I would get in with you and help, but that’s probably not a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Your reaction when you found out I was gay; I don’t want you to be scared of us.”

“I’m sorry, sir; I truly am. I’m so sorry I reacted in such a bad way.”

“It’s okay, Jessie. Don’t worry about it, mate. I just don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of you.”

“But you’re not, sir. You’ve done nothing but try to help me and be nice to me. Plus, you’re a doctor; I’ve been naked and touched by doctors plenty of times while playing sports. I’d prefer a shower if you’re willing to help me.”

“Okay, let’s do this, but don’t blame me if I get a boner,” Lars joked. “Just kidding, mate, just kidding,” he added in response to the wide-open eyes on the young man’s face.

“Hey, Aitor,” shouted Lars through the open door.

“What, babe? Ouch, that’s one swollen ankle on you, mate.”

“Yeah, it's probably sprained. Jessie has a motorcycle with some stuff we need to get, but it’ll wait until the morning. He has no clean clothes, so I’ll lend him a pair of shorts for the night, and we can do all our laundry together tomorrow. I’m gonna have to shower with him; he needs help. If you make as much as a small crack about that, I’ll hurt you.”

“Did you say small-ass crack?”

“Hee, hee, hee. You guys are funny,” a giggling Jessie put in.

‘Once again, Aitor, shut up before I hurt you! Go shower in the room next door, and then how about you fix dinner tonight. After we’re done here, I’ll give the kid a quick exam and wrap his ankle properly. We’ll eat next door, also, so he doesn’t have to move much. He can have one bed tonight, and we’ll share the other one.”

“You got it. Love you, babe.”

“Love you, too.”

A research assistant at the University of Tehran-Biomaterials Research Center, his mind corrupted by religious propaganda throughout his life, became convinced it was his duty to free the world of infidels. The garbage spouted by the Mullahs during Friday services, similar to sermons by clergy in so many other religions, assured the young man that Allah would protect true believers from any and all dangers. Those who died in his service would be rewarded in the next life. Having planned to participate in the Hajj this year, the delusional young man saw an opportunity to carry out what he considered his sacred duty during the pilgrimage to Mecca.

He stole a small aerosol canister of the deadly concoction created by his fellow scientists. Designed to resemble a Western can of deodorant, many of these canisters had been prepared as a way of smuggling the killing bug throughout the world. The lab was currently hard at work trying to develop a vaccine or antidote to their gruesome creation. If the need arose to disperse the contents of those canisters, they needed a way to protect their country’s population. The fanatical man also created a video recording explaining his actions; this he uploaded to the Collective International Cloud.

He entered the necessary protocols to release the recording to the public towards the end of his time in Saudi Arabia. His calculations indicated that if he infected a few thousand individuals, the pilgrims returning to their home countries would cause a chain reaction the infidels would not be able to stop. Seventy-two hours before the scheduled appearance of his announcement, while at the Al-Masjid Al-Haram or The Sacred Mosque, in Mecca, he dispersed the contents of the canister amidst the faithful. The killing mist he called Allah’s Revenge.

“Oh, wow!” exclaimed Jessie as Lars stood before him naked. The Swede was a couple of inches taller than him, heavier and more muscular. His chest, arms and legs were covered in light brown fur, matching the color of the hair on his head and face. Although the latter was streaked with blond highlights from spending time in the sun, the boy would soon discover the man’s ass cheeks were also covered in soft hairs of the same color.

“What?”

“It’s just both of you have so much hair all over your bodies, and I don’t. I must look like a little kid to you guys.”

“Mate, you are definitely not a little kid. You may be smooth, but you’re in great shape, and if you will excuse me, that thing between your legs is man-sized—based on my medical knowledge of course, not a lot of personal research, okay?”

“Hee, hee, hee… You guys are really funny. I’ve smiled and laughed more in the past six hours than I have in the last six weeks.”

“Good to hear. One more thing about the hair, and something you better get used to if you remain with us: it provides a great environment for all sorts of critters. Whenever we spend time outdoors, we check each other’s bodies afterwards to make certain nothing has made itself at home. We need to be careful of ticks, in particular; they can be nasty beasties.”

“Do… do I have to do it to you while we shower?”

“No, Jessie, you don’t. I wouldn’t want you to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable. Aitor and I can check each other out, but one of us is gonna have to do you. You understand?”

“Yes, I do, sir. I know it’s for my own good, and I guess I can do it for you guys, also. As I said before, I’m used to seeing naked guys in the locker room. I may as well get used to touching naked guys if I’m going to survive.”

“Proper attitude to have, mate. Remember, if you feel awkward about doing anything we suggest, you just say so.”

“I will, sir.”

“Let me help you into the shower, and we’ll both get cleaned up. You’ll have to hold onto my shoulders while I scrub you and check you for creepy-crawlies. Once you’re clean, I’ll dry you and bring you back out here before I shower myself. This time, Aitor and I will check each other for ticks later; I don’t want to have you standing any more than necessary. You’re going to love the Bulgari shower gel and shampoo we scavenged along the way; never felt like spending so much money on that kind of stuff, but since it was free…”

The end of the Hajj and the release of the recording made by the Iranian coincided with the beginning of the two Europeans’ time away from civilization. They were unaware of the worldwide terror and the panic which brought out both the best and the worst in humans. The religious fanaticism, which led a man to try and rid the planet of anyone not conforming to his views, was just one more instance of destructive behavior due to misplaced faith in so called gods.

A smattering of unexplained deaths in several large metropolitan areas baffled medical personnel, drawing the interest of national health agencies in major industrialized countries. The release of the recording revealing the dissemination of Allah’s Revenge provided an explanation for the strange demises; it also caused a chain reaction of events, primarily in the industrialized world.

In the United States, the Federal Aviation Administration grounded all planes and closed all airports; the National Guard was deployed by the President to protect the country’s borders―the area neighboring Mexico became a killing field. The Coast Guard and the Navy were ordered to sink any vessel attempting to reach American soil, while the Air Force was to shoot down any aircraft about to enter the nation’s airspace. Following in the footsteps of some of their predecessors in office during the Ebola Crisis, several governors instituted measures with no scientific basis behind them; they were simply pandering to fears in the population.

Similar actions were taken in Canada, Japan, Australia and Europe. Israel mobilized its entire military force, calling up reservists, and blockaded all transit points to and from the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. Russia took advantage of the chaos; it invaded and occupied several of the old Soviet republics under the guise of protecting them. The Vatican, once again clueless, called for prayer, while American televangelists made pleas for increased financial support, promising salvation to all contributors. Iran denied any responsibility for the creation of the killer or its dissemination.

It was all useless, it was all too little, and it was all too late. Within a week of the initial release in Mecca, five percent of the world’s population was infected. The percentage doubled every three days. The President of the United States and her family were evacuated to Camp David in an effort to isolate them; unfortunately, one of the Secret Service agents protecting the first family was infected. Within a week Camp David was just another morgue.

The large population centers were the first to feel the brunt of the killing agent; by mid-August, New York, London, Shanghai, Tokyo, São Paulo and Sydney were ghost towns. Smaller cities and towns soon followed; nothing could stop the spread. A month after the initial infections, at the same time Lars and Aitor were returning to Banff, Allah’s Revenge had almost run its course. By the middle of September, survivors were few; immunity appeared in a negligible number of individuals, and most of those surviving were isolationists by choice or by chance.

Soon after the number of victims began to rise, violence erupted all over the world. Looting and arson were common, as were assassinations of Muslims or others perceived to be of Arabic heritage. Hospitals and houses of worship became the final resting place for hundreds of thousands seeking help that never came.

“Now that we’re both clean, let me get to work. How does the ankle feel?”

“It’s starting to hurt a bit again, sir; maybe the pain pills are wearing off?”

“They probably are. Let me grab my bag and I’ll be right back. Before he had taken two steps, Aitor walked into their room carrying a green plastic bin from the back of their vehicle. “Weapons or medical supplies?” asked Lars.

“Supplies. Thought you might need some for the kid. We can bring the weapons in after dinner and before we move the truck. I’m headed to the kitchen for a while. I’ll be back when dinner is ready.”

“Okay, see you in a bit. Jessie, do you know when you last had a tetanus shot?”

“No, sir, can’t say as I do.”

“After I wrap your ankle and perform a quick checkup, I’ll give you one. With all the outdoor time, the chances of some kind of wound are high, and there’s no need to take unwarranted risks.”

“You’re the doc, Doc.”

“Wait, was that actually a joke? Mate, I think you’re going to be just fine given a little time. And speaking of time, we planned on staying here for around a week. The facilities are good, and we want to take advantage of the electrical grid still working. We plan to dry out some of the venison to create jerky; it’ll require one or two days in the oven at the lowest possible temperatures. As I told you before, we plan on doing laundry tomorrow and repacking all our containers before we leave.”

“What about me, sir? Can I come with you? Where are you headed?”

“Is it what you would like to do, travel with us?”

“I think so, sir. I realize I won’t be able to survive for long on my own. Once I can walk a bit, I’ll work hard. I won’t be a burden, I promise. And I can fix most mechanical things, so I can help.”

“Don’t see why you can’t join us, but let’s discuss it once our chef returns. I do not get to make this type of decision on my own. Aitor and I are partners in every way, and he needs to be part of the conversation.”

The animal clinic in Banff became home for the next couple of days. The first night they ventured out under cover of darkness to explore the surrounding area. They wore whatever protective equipment against infection Lars was able to locate or improvise, and Aitor led their expedition carrying the loaded rifle with him.

The retired soldier’s target was a shop catering to hunters and fishermen. They broke into the establishment and swiftly assessed the inventory. It had obviously been depleted, but the military man was able to scavenge a shotgun, a better rifle and two revolvers along with a good amount of ammunition. Lars filled a large duffle bag with lanterns, insect repellent, ready-to-eat meals and other survivalist supplies.

They returned to their base of operations, barricaded all doors and windows as best they could, and after taking their first shower in a long time, fell into an uneasy sleep.

The following morning the men appropriated a Toyota pickup truck from a nearby parking lot; they found spare keys under the front left tire in a small magnetic case. Their first destination was Banff-Mineral Springs Hospital. The strong smell of putrefaction in the area persuaded them to move to their next intended location.

Banff Avenue Pharmacy was a short drive away, there Lars stocked up on all sorts of first-aid supplies and both prescription and over-the-counter medications. Aitor located a stack of plastic storage bins with lids and appropriated them, along with a small provision of personal-care items.

Their final stop for the day was the Banff Fire Department on Beaver Street. A poor substitute for a real hazmat suit and several other supplies were added to their inventory. Back at the clinic, they emptied the truck’s bed, parked it in front of the side door and then barricaded the entrance from the inside as additional protection. By now they had decided the chances of finding survivors in the city itself was infinitesimal; the large number of visitors ensured the virus would have found its way to this remote location in the mountains of Canada.

The remainder of the day was spent organizing their newly acquired materials and planning their next moves. They wanted to leave the following morning heading south towards the United States. For the time being, they wanted to avoid any large population centers and plotted a route using mostly secondary roads.

“Thank you for dinner sir, best meal I’ve had in a long time. You’re a great cook, and the cold beer was a treat.”

“You’re welcome, Jessie,” replied Aitor. “We don’t always get to eat like this, but when the opportunity arises…”

“Wish I could at least help with the cleanup, but Dr. Lundgren doesn’t want me to stand up at all.”

“No worries, amigo; we’ll rinse the stuff in the bathroom and wrap up the trash in a plastic bag. Tomorrow we’ll move it out to the main building. Let’s head back to the other room; I’d like to hear your story, and I’m sure so would Lars.”

“Here, son, put your arm around me one more time, and I’ll help you while Aitor finishes up in here.”

“Thank you, sir. I hate being a burden and promise to help out as soon as you let me walk.”

“We know, Jessie, we know. Hey, Aitor, I’ll let him have the bed furthest away from the door, okay”

“Perfect, babe,” replied the military man who had just walked into their shared room. Not one to beat around the bush, he turned to their new friend and asked him what the two older men had been curious about since they met the kid. “So, where did you come from, and how did you end up here, Jessie?”

“I was born in Abilene, Texas, sir. It’s about a hundred and fifty miles west of Fort Worth. Lived there until I graduated from high school, then moved to Atlanta for college ―Georgia Tech. Majored in Mechanical Engineering and played on the baseball team. Growing up, my two favorite things were playing ball and working on cars; I was happy I could do both in college.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” asked Aitor, who was sitting on the other bed with his back against the headboard of the queen-sized bed. Lars sat at the foot, slowly massaging his husband’s legs, something Jessie noticed, which made him feel a small pang of jealousy. The love shared by the two men was easily seen.

“No, sir. I dated the head cheerleader during my last year in high school. We were elected homecoming king and queen. Y’all know what that means?”

“We have an idea,” replied Lars.

“Anyway, we dated but never did nothing more than some kissing; her parents were strict Southern Baptists, and premarital sex was a big no-no. So I was still a virgin when I got to college. My first semester at Tech, I went to a party thrown by some other jocks at an apartment off campus, had a bit much to drink ,and ended up fucking some girl who had a thing for baseball players.

“It happened a few more times, always after partying. I realized I wasn’t enjoying it, stopped drinking so much, and my hand kept me company the rest of my time in school. I was busy studying, working out and playing baseball—not a lot of free time available, anyway.”

“How old are you, son?”

“I’m twenty four, Doc”

“And how did you end up here in the mountains?” It was Aitor once again, gently leading the boy through the telling of his story.

“I was always a reader, mostly science fiction. As soon as the news broke about Allah’s Revenge, I thought back on two stories I had read: The Andromeda Strain and I am Legend. I felt the situation was similar, quickly packed what I thought I’d need for two or three weeks of camping, loaded up the Harley and headed out of Atlanta. I’d been up to the National Park before, and knew I could hunt, find fresh water and take shelter in some of the many caves all over the place.”

“Smart man…” said Lars getting up from the bed and walking towards his medical bag sitting open on the desk by the door. “I think it’s time to call it a day. With your permission, I’d like to give you a shot, Jessie. It’ll be a mild steroid to help bring down the inflammation and a sedative to help with the pain and make it easier to sleep.”

“Whatever you think, sir. I trust you.”

“Good, we’ve all had a hectic day; a good night’s sleep will keep us sharp tomorrow. We’ll get your bike, and then we can all discuss where we go from here. I’ll help you lock up in a second, babe; let me get the kid comfortable.”

The drive east on the Trans-Canada Highway was brief before they turned south onto the Cowboy Trail. They eventually switched to Alberta 2, following it until they reached the town of Cardston. They had been on the road for approximately four hours and stopped on the outskirts to stretch their legs and switch drivers once again before continuing on their way south. The two-hour shifts allowed them to remain alert and prevent either one from becoming too tired. They were surprised to drive by an opulent structure identified as the Temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Such a magnificent building in such a small town seemed odd; they did not linger to investigate since the odor of putrefaction emanating from the religious compound was extremely strong.

Alberta 2 turned into US Route 89 after crossing from Canada into the United States. Border-crossing stations in both countries appeared deserted but had obviously been occupied when the governments attempted to close off access to their territory. The smell of rotting flesh was also in the air here.

Driving through the Blackfeet Indian Reservation, they once again turned east at the junction with US Route 2. Almost 250 miles since leaving Banff, they stopped by a sign welcoming them to Cut Bank, Montana―population 2,500. It was partly covered with a hand-painted board indicating the entire population had relocated to Glacier National Park. It was time for another switch in driver, the air smelled clean, and Aitor suggested scouting the town. Stopping in front of the Police Department building, he ran to the main entrance and found the front door unlocked and no weapons left behind, but there was a shower room and small kitchen facility in the back. It was a good place to spend the night.

The next day, they had been on the road for a little over six hours after leaving Cut Bank early in the morning. Crossing into North Dakota, they made their regular stop to stretch and switch drivers. The thin column of smoke rising from the ground up ahead intrigued them; it caused Aitor, now in the passenger seat, to unlock the safety from the three firearms he constantly kept at the ready. According to their map, Williston was the next town on US Route 2; it was where the men had planned on spending the night.

The message painted on the billboard came as a surprise; it invited travelers to stop and visit the Western North Dakota Farming Co-op. The turn was clearly visible, and it was the source of the smoke signal. A controlled fire was manned by two young men carrying assault rifles. They signaled for a stop, donned gas masks, slowly approached the truck and indicated the passengers should roll down their windows.

Lars explained who they were and where they had been; the information seemed to satisfy the young men. Removing the protective gear, they motioned for the travelers to follow the dirt road which would lead them to the Co-op’s compound. Ten families had come together immediately after the recording concerning Allah’s Revenge was released. They had become a ‘tribe’, ruled by a council of elders and working together to ensure survival. Crops were being harvested and stored, livestock had been moved from their individual farms to the new compound, and all their equipment and machinery had been consolidated at this one location. Surviving the coming winter was their first priority, and they worked long hours towards that goal.

The two men spent a week with the farmers, who provided additional details about the events occurring while they were camping. The news included information concerning high survival rates in certain military facilities which had been placed on lockdown by their commanding officers after the initial announcement. Some small, out-of-the-way communities had also isolated themselves from the rest of the world quickly enough. Hearing of their plans to winter in Florida, Key West was mentioned as one of those places, surprising since it was such a tourist destination. In conjunction with the Naval Air Base there, the town fathers had blown up a bridge on the Overseas Highway, and the Navy had patrolled the sky and the sea. Luck had apparently been on their side; not a single visitor had arrived carrying the lethal illness.

Lars provided some rudimentary medical training and prepared a list of suggested supplies which could be obtained by raiding medical facilities. He warned them to stay away from any location where decomposing bodies could be smelled. The possibility of various infections from the decaying bodies was substantial. Aitor provided suggestions on how to make their compound safer from possible raids and which weapons they should look for during any foraging trips.

Their next stop, at the suggestion of their hosts was Aberdeen, South Dakota. Seven hours after leaving the farming community, they approached the city from the north, entering a business area with few homes nearby. After breaking into a GMC-Buick dealership, they parked their truck inside one of the maintenance bays, and the place was turned into their base of operations for the next five days.

By the time they left, they had exchanged their Toyota for a brand new Yukon they had prepared and loaded with replenished supplies. Most of the work on the vehicle was done during the day in order to avoid light being seen from the outside, while most of the provisioning was done in the early morning hours, before sunrise, in order to minimize the chances of detection.

Overnight stays outside Alberta Lea, Minnesota, and Wever, Iowa, followed without incident. At the latter, they spent two nights camping within the Blackhawk Bottom Wildlife Area and hunted for water fowl migrating south. Continuing their travel heading southeast, they plotted a route to Vandalia, Illinois. A scant four hours away, they planned on spending the night at the Fire and Police Department headquarters. Aitor was always in search of additional weapons, and Lars was interested in obtaining hazmat suits so they could at some point enter a hospital.

The SUV was parked in an empty bay, next to an EMT vehicle which was relieved of most of its contents. They locked every entry point, made use of the shower and kitchen facilities and bedded down in the second-floor dormitory. A round of passionate love making left them sweaty and content, ready to call it an early night.

Sometime after midnight, they heard the sound of breaking glass. Instantly alert, they both grabbed firearms and hunting knives and quietly made their way downstairs. Three young men, their heads shaved and wearing hunting clothes, were rifling through the contents of one of their plastic bins. Following his husband’s directions, Lars headed outside through a side door. Aitor shouted for the men to raise their hands and was instantly fired upon by all three. One bullet hit his left arm, another one barely missed his left ear; he ignored them, remained steady and returned fire.

An intruder fell with a scream clutching his abdomen; another one wailed when he was hit in the leg. The third one tried to help his injured accomplice out the door they had broken; they were met by Lars holding a shotgun. The skinhead made the mistake of raising his weapon and seconds later both he and his partner lay on the ground dead.

Aitor’s wound was not serious; the bullet had cleanly transited through his bicep. Lars bandaged him, shot him full of antibiotics but refrained from administering a sedative in case they were faced with more bandits. Everything that had been taken out of the truck was hurriedly shoved back inside, and within fifteen minutes they were back on the road.

Two and a half hours and a hundred and fifty miles later, Lars stopped on the outskirts of Morganfield, Kentucky. Locating an area full of warehouses, he approached, senses fully alert. Choosing one, he broke into the small attached office, raised the large overhead doors, and Aitor drove their truck inside. With no windows and only one door to worry about, they should be safe for the remainder of the day while he took a better look at his wounded partner and organized the contents of their vehicle once again.

The next morning, Lars allowed Aitor to drive so he wouldn’t have to listen to his best mate whine about feeling useless. He did insist on making it a short travel day, stopping on the banks of the Cumberland River past Gallatin, Tennessee. Two days of fishing, making love and resting had both in good spirits when on the last day of September they broke camp and headed towards Cherokee, North Carolina and the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

“Jessie, are you awake?” asked Aitor in a quiet voice.

“I am, sir. Good morning.”

“Morning to you, amigo. Want some help getting to the bathroom?”

“That would be good, sir, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” replied the dark-haired man as he lifted the sheet covering him, left his bed and reached over to help the young man up. “Hope you don’t mind the boner. Can’t help it in the mornings.”

“Nnnnno, sir. It’s okay; I have the same problem.” Jessie blushed and leaned into the older man, surprised at how good the soldier’s chest hair felt rubbing against his skin.

“You gotta hold your own, mate. Lars would get jealous if I started grabbing every nice dick that flopped my way.”

“Hee, hee, hee. You guys keep making me smile. Thank you so much for everything. I’m not sure how long I would have lasted on my own.”

“Hey, stop flirting, you two. I need to take a leak also!”

“Hush, Lars, at least give us time to shake ‘em off.”

“You drink coffee, Jessie?” asked the tall Swede.

“Yes I do, sir.”

“I’ll start the coffeemaker in here, but it’s one of those small ones. We’ll get the one from the other room so we can brew enough for the three of us. Wash your hands, you two...”

“Yes, sir!”

“Yes, daddy…”

“Great! Now I’m saddled with not one but two pains in my ass,” exclaimed Lars in mock frustration.

“First time I hear you complain about that!” snapped a laughing Aitor in response as he helped a blushing Jessie back into the room. “Okay, kiddo, let me put on some shorts and shoes and I’ll go check the maintenance closet. I think I saw a pair of crutches in there when I raided it for towels a couple of days ago.”

“Let’s take a look at the ankle, Jessie. If Aitor can’t find crutches, we’ll improvise something so you’re not stuck in the room all day long. Hmmm, swelling seems to be down a bit; the steroids should take full effect within twenty-four hours. I still want you to stay off it for a couple more days before you try walking on it.”

“Sure thing, Doc, whatever you say.”

“Hey guys, we’re in luck. Found a slightly used set of crutches that should do the trick. Kinda cool this morning, so put on a shirt, and we’ll head over to the kitchen for some breakfast.”

“Jessie, do you know if there are any enclosed motorcycle trailers at the shop where you left your bike?” asked Lars as he helped the young man maneuver towards the motel’s main building using his crutches.

“I think so, sir. I’m pretty sure I saw at least one parked behind the shop.”

“Good, after we eat, you should accompany Aitor to the dealership, let him attach one of the trailers to the truck and bring your bike back in it. While you guys are gone, I’ll start laundering our clothes and clean up here and in the rooms.”

“Yes, sir, I would be happy to do that. Could we talk about travel plans now?”

“What about travel plans?” asked Aitor.

“Seems our young friend has become attached already and would like to remain with us as we travel south.”

“Is that so, Jessie?”

“Yes, sir! I realize both of you are good men, and it would be hard to find better traveling companions.”

“No problems with us being gay? You have to realize we will be in close quarters at times and that Lars and I enjoy an active sex life, if I do say so myself.”

“Pig!”

“Hee, hee, hee. It will not be a problem, sir. Plus I think I’m getting addicted to the banter between you guys.”

“Good going, mate; as long as my husband agrees, you’ve got my vote.”

“He already knows I approve, so I guess we have us a new traveling companion.”

A week after arriving in North Carolina, Aitor and Lars were back on the road. They were no longer alone; Jessie had joined them. The last seven days were spent planning their next moves and integrating the young man into their daily activities. Hobbled for a couple of days with his sprained ankle, the youngster proved to be a hard worker, intelligent and resourceful once he could move around.

The enclosed trailer they appropriated from the Harley-Davidson dealership provided space for the motorcycle and some of their supplies, freeing up the back seat for one of them to stretch out and nap while traveling. They agreed the motorcycle would be a good way to scout any new area they approached before moving in with the truck. If the rider perceived any potential danger they could always alter their routing.

Augusta, Georgia, the home of the US Masters Golf Tournament, was approximately two hundred miles southeast of Cherokee and was their next destination. Jessie had convinced the older men that certain modifications to the truck would make it a safer and more reliable vehicle. He could accomplish all the proposed alterations with minimal assistance from them. A Pep Boys store outside the city was selected as a convenient location in which to perform the planned work; most tools and parts needed would be there already.

A week later, the Yukon had been transformed. A lift kit and larger all-terrain tires would make it easier to navigate different environments. A winch was attached to the reinforced front bumper, a light bar was installed on the roof in front of a new luggage rack, and the headlights sported protective metal grilles. Jessie had also performed exhaustive maintenance, replacing all fluids and taking advantage of the computerized diagnostic equipment found in the shop.

The three had become comfortable with each other and engaged in easy conversation as they began the next leg of their voyage. By the end of the day they had reached Ponte Vedra Beach, Florida. Aitor and Lars had traveled almost five thousand kilometers from the Canadian Rocky Mountains to Florida’s Atlantic Coast. This seemed like a good place to stop.

“Hey, Lars, would you rub some sunscreen on my ass?”

“The kid is flirting with me again, honey!”

“Fuck off, Doc. I don’t need sunburned cheeks; not like I’ve been running around bare assed all my life. I grew up in the Backwards Bible Belt not Enlightened Europe.”

“Mate, if you don’t want to rub his butt, I will. Maybe he’ll let me slip him a couple of fingers this time,” commented Aitor while laughing.

“Not a chance, soldier boy. I’ve seen what you’re packing, and I’m scared of you! It’ll start with a finger and soon enough I’ll be walking funny. Why do you think I asked the old man instead of you?”

“Old man? Fuck you, Tex!”

“Maybe later, big boy, maybe later.”

“Would you listen to the two of you?” It was a smiling Aitor once again. “What happened to the shy, quiet boy we met just two months ago?”

“Living with y’all for the past few weeks is what happened to me. You guys are a bad influence,” replied Jessie, enjoying the way Lars was spreading sun block over his back. “And I mean that as a compliment. Working with the two of you day in and day out has been amazing. Not sure if y’all realize how happy I am around you.”

“I must admit I have enjoyed our time together, also,” added Lars. “Stumbling upon the Environmental Center here at the Guana River was a stroke of luck. A modern facility designed to withstand hurricanes; equipped with solar panels to provide electricity and a back-up generator for emergencies. The boat tied up at the dock on the river, the wilderness surrounding the facility and the short distance from the ocean provides us ample opportunity to fish and hunt. We’ve done a good job turning the place into a home.”

Thanksgiving was a traditional North American celebration and not something the two Europeans had participated in before. Jessie explained the tradition associated with the event and convinced them it was appropriate for them to organize a similar celebration without any religious implication. It would be a day of no work, a chance for them to appreciate their good fortune surviving the plague and, in his case, being able to bond with the two older men.

On the last day of November, they spent the day cooking and relaxing. Blue crabs, red snapper, rabbit and duck were all part of the feast; their supply of dry and canned goods provided side dishes, in an unusual splurge, they turned on the generator to provide power for baking. The result was a batch of double-chocolate-fudge brownies; liberally laced with some of the cannabis harvested from the small plot discovered behind an abandoned home nearby.

Filled with good food and relaxed by effect of their baking bonanza, the three men lay naked on a blanket spread on the dunes. The air was cool, but the sand underneath them still held some of the warmth from the day’s bright sun. The sky was clear, and millions of stars resembled festive strings of light. It was a comfortable time for them; there was no need to speak. This was a time to enjoy being next to each other and their own private thoughts—a time to be thankful for the good fortune they enjoyed amidst all the turmoil the world had experienced.

A smiling Jessie turned to Aitor and planted a fiery kiss on his lips while gently caressing the man’s hairy chest. Lars stared in wonderment. He found the sight of his husband and their young friend so passionately kissing extremely arousing. Then it was his turn as Jessie repeated the display of love with the tall Swede. The pleasantly surprise couple smiled as they enveloped the younger man, returning his love. It was much later when the three finally fell asleep, sexually sated and clutching each other in a tight embrace. And it wasn’t until the next morning, as the rising sun woke them up that words were once again uttered.

“Guys, thanks for last night: for being so accepting, for welcoming me into your relationship. I’ve so fallen in love with y’all I hope we get to spend the rest of our lives together. We may not stay here forever; maybe we’ll head to Key West at some point; maybe we’ll head somewhere else. For now, I’m thankful we’re alive and we’ve got each other.”

Thank you in advance for your comments!
C. A. Hazday
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

2014 - Winter - Chain Reaction Entry

Story Discussion Topic

Welcome to the discussion thread for CJ’s series. All things CJ are fair game, I simply ask you be respectful of others. I will actively participate in the discussion. Ask questions, speculate about what’s coming, or bitch about what happened. We’re now open for business!    
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This is a terrific story Carlos -- and sure to be popular as it catches on with more GA readers. The characters are intelligent and likable. And given everything that's happening in the news lately, the plot is really affective and appropriate! Definite thumbs-up on this one. For me personally, the mark of reading any good story is wanting a sequel when the story concludes! Sure hope we get to see one for this gem sometime down the road. Thank you for posting it.

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I love post-apocalyptic fiction, and you came up with a realistic storyline that definitely dovetails into current world politics. Your characters skill sets all meshed very well to make a phenomenal survival team, but it would make sense those few who'd survive would include many who are very handy in various walks of life--like a soldier/hunter, doctor, and mechanic.

 

The story employed a lot of telling, though, as you laid out the scenes. I felt very little connection to the action because it was like reading a diary instead of living the scenes as the characters experienced events in the storyline. Post-apoc is often gritty and harrowing to read because of the scary events, deprivation, potential for conflict and fighting, etc... Your major sensory element was the smell of the bodies, but you don't give any visuals, and I'm sure many people would've died in public or in their cars. What about animals preying on bodies? Troubles driving because of gridlock on roads?

 

We also missed out on the emotions of your characters. The biggest thing that stands out to me is the surprise at the end as Jesse kisses them. Where's the shock at the end of the world? Do neither of your main characters have family or friends to worry about? Disbelief? Anger? What about when they were confronted by the three men and Aitor gets shot? Lars wasn't afraid? Angry? Relieved he only had a minor injury?

 

I really liked the plot line, and agree with SolarMaxx, a follow up would be good. Jesse's POV would be really interesting, since he has the most growth as a character in this story. I'd like to see what's going on in his mind!

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On 12/11/2014 06:26 AM, SolarMaxx said:
This is a terrific story Carlos -- and sure to be popular as it catches on with more GA readers. The characters are intelligent and likable. And given everything that's happening in the news lately, the plot is really affective and appropriate! Definite thumbs-up on this one. For me personally, the mark of reading any good story is wanting a sequel when the story concludes! Sure hope we get to see one for this gem sometime down the road. Thank you for posting it.
Thanks Max, for the help, for reading and for the nice comment. I hope I wrote something that leaves people with a feeling of hope amidst destruction. I really like these guys and maybe one day I'll revisit them, you never know.
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On 12/11/2014 06:53 AM, Cia said:
I love post-apocalyptic fiction, and you came up with a realistic storyline that definitely dovetails into current world politics. Your characters skill sets all meshed very well to make a phenomenal survival team, but it would make sense those few who'd survive would include many who are very handy in various walks of life--like a soldier/hunter, doctor, and mechanic.

 

The story employed a lot of telling, though, as you laid out the scenes. I felt very little connection to the action because it was like reading a diary instead of living the scenes as the characters experienced events in the storyline. Post-apoc is often gritty and harrowing to read because of the scary events, deprivation, potential for conflict and fighting, etc... Your major sensory element was the smell of the bodies, but you don't give any visuals, and I'm sure many people would've died in public or in their cars. What about animals preying on bodies? Troubles driving because of gridlock on roads?

 

We also missed out on the emotions of your characters. The biggest thing that stands out to me is the surprise at the end as Jesse kisses them. Where's the shock at the end of the world? Do neither of your main characters have family or friends to worry about? Disbelief? Anger? What about when they were confronted by the three men and Aitor gets shot? Lars wasn't afraid? Angry? Relieved he only had a minor injury?

 

I really liked the plot line, and agree with SolarMaxx, a follow up would be good. Jesse's POV would be really interesting, since he has the most growth as a character in this story. I'd like to see what's going on in his mind!

As usual your reviews are a thing of beauty. To be honest, I cheated the reader by not including a lot of what you mention even when I thought of some of them. My poor excuse is fear. I wrote something that was as long as everything I had posted at the time I finished it and was scared of writing so much that I would bore the reader. For now, I'll take the fact that more would have been welcome as a good sign and hopefully future efforts will be better. Thanks for taking the time to read and to leave me a comment~!
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I liked it, Carlos. My attention didn't wane at any point in the story and that's accomplished mostly, I feel, because the story maintained a flow to it. Which, is a good thing, but Cia made a very good point about what can be expected in these types of stories. I did wonder (while I read) that maybe the graphic scenes ended up on the cutting room floor (so to speak) in the editing process, but I see that wasn't the reason. Fear? Well, I can understand that. Dive in, Carlos, let those gut instincts work for ya. You have a good voice.

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On 12/11/2014 11:04 AM, Ron said:
I liked it, Carlos. My attention didn't wane at any point in the story and that's accomplished mostly, I feel, because the story maintained a flow to it. Which, is a good thing, but Cia made a very good point about what can be expected in these types of stories. I did wonder (while I read) that maybe the graphic scenes ended up on the cutting room floor (so to speak) in the editing process, but I see that wasn't the reason. Fear? Well, I can understand that. Dive in, Carlos, let those gut instincts work for ya. You have a good voice.
Ron-

Thank you for reading, for reviewing and for the kind words. Rushing through or glossing over parts of a story which would benefit from additional details and or explanations is something I've been dealing with in another story I've been working on. My editor there keeps pointing it out and hopefully it's getting through to me :)

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I'm so glad you took the plunge and contributed to the anthology. This is a well thought out concept and a believable plot. I just want to expand it! You have what is asking to be a much grander tale. Cia has already pointed out the things I was thinking as I was reading, but I still really enjoyed the story. You should consider the undertaking of a broader scope novel with this. It could be worth it!

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There is a certain romance to end-of -the-world stories. The idea of starting over after mass devastation has its own allure so kudos for the concept. At this point in time, I think the important thing is that you are showing real growth as a writer. This was by far the most intriguing and well told of anything that I have read of yours. You seem to have a penchant for flashbacks so far in your work and this time they worked flawlessly and there was no chance for confusion so I feel like you have overcome another hurdle through your writing experience. I am assuming your were working with length limitations( not you personally :P ) so there wasn't the depth of storytelling that there could have been...but there was enough, and I was thoroughly engaged throughout the entire story and while the ending was not my cup of tea, it was a perfectly good one for what you were trying to achieve. I understood what you were saying with this ending in a new and different world. I will sum up in one word...impressed. I hope this achievement gives you confidence going forward and that you continue to strive and thrive...Cheers, buddy....Gary

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On 12/11/2014 11:44 AM, Mann Ramblings said:
I'm so glad you took the plunge and contributed to the anthology. This is a well thought out concept and a believable plot. I just want to expand it! You have what is asking to be a much grander tale. Cia has already pointed out the things I was thinking as I was reading, but I still really enjoyed the story. You should consider the undertaking of a broader scope novel with this. It could be worth it!
Thanks bubba! You, better than most, know what I'm capable of and what my weaknesses are, so thank you for the vote of confidence. Let me get a little more traction under my writing wheels and I'll think about my guys again. I do like the idea of expansion better than sequel. Would give me a chance to flesh out all those areas that have been found a bit thin. Seems I scratched the surface of the story when what I really should have done was sink my claws in, I'll start sharpening for the next one!
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On 12/11/2014 03:43 PM, Headstall said:
There is a certain romance to end-of -the-world stories. The idea of starting over after mass devastation has its own allure so kudos for the concept. At this point in time, I think the important thing is that you are showing real growth as a writer. This was by far the most intriguing and well told of anything that I have read of yours. You seem to have a penchant for flashbacks so far in your work and this time they worked flawlessly and there was no chance for confusion so I feel like you have overcome another hurdle through your writing experience. I am assuming your were working with length limitations( not you personally :P ) so there wasn't the depth of storytelling that there could have been...but there was enough, and I was thoroughly engaged throughout the entire story and while the ending was not my cup of tea, it was a perfectly good one for what you were trying to achieve. I understood what you were saying with this ending in a new and different world. I will sum up in one word...impressed. I hope this achievement gives you confidence going forward and that you continue to strive and thrive...Cheers, buddy....Gary
I'm so glad you found it appealing! You've been along from the first 'Ride' and have seen me try a bunch of different stuff. Keep helping me keep what works and discard what's crap, I hope I can keep growing in the new year. And yes, I knew the ending would not be your cup of tes, YOU were on my mind when I decided how to finish it up but it felt right anyway. :P
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As everyone else has said, this is a great start to a fine story! Definately plan on diving in further into this pool, Carlos.

I really didn't miss the detailed explanations of the true impact of the infection. I suspect, were this to happen in real life, most of us would be in a state of shock, and the true impact of what we see wouldn't develop until much later. PTSD would be rampant afterwards, when the blocked images come back to haunt the survivors. Until you have the luxury of time, you can't afford to think and record--you just have to survive. And the impact of PTSD on the suvivors would be huge.

Like Cia, exploring Jesse and his development would be intriguing.

Again, definately deserves followup/expansion. Damn fine writing here!

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On 12/12/2014 01:11 AM, Robert Rex said:
As everyone else has said, this is a great start to a fine story! Definately plan on diving in further into this pool, Carlos.

I really didn't miss the detailed explanations of the true impact of the infection. I suspect, were this to happen in real life, most of us would be in a state of shock, and the true impact of what we see wouldn't develop until much later. PTSD would be rampant afterwards, when the blocked images come back to haunt the survivors. Until you have the luxury of time, you can't afford to think and record--you just have to survive. And the impact of PTSD on the suvivors would be huge.

Like Cia, exploring Jesse and his development would be intriguing.

Again, definately deserves followup/expansion. Damn fine writing here!

Thanks, Rex. As usual with every work, different readers get different impressions and are impacted by different things. As I said before the decision to omit certain things and concentrate on the actual effort to survive and plan for the immediate future was a conscious one. Made out of insecurities on my part. The desire for further details seems to be a common thread so who am I to disappoint my friends LOL I have a few other things in process right now so Aitor, Lars and Jessie will have to sit in the closet for a bit. :P

 

Thanks again, big daddy!

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A very enjoyable story, Carlos. I found it fascinating that the person carrying out 'Allah's Revenge' would start by infecting those on the Hajj. So in order to kill the infidels, he first kills unsuspecting Muslims. It's not like they volunteered for the duty, so I found it intriguing at how far an extremist would go to carry out his plot.

I enjoyed the change in Jesse's attitude, but I was still mildly surprised by how much he had changed by the end of your story. It would be interesting to see what happens from here, but I won't repeat the rash of good ideas mentioned by the others. Good job!

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On 12/12/2014 05:02 AM, Bill W said:
A very enjoyable story, Carlos. I found it fascinating that the person carrying out 'Allah's Revenge' would start by infecting those on the Hajj. So in order to kill the infidels, he first kills unsuspecting Muslims. It's not like they volunteered for the duty, so I found it intriguing at how far an extremist would go to carry out his plot.

I enjoyed the change in Jesse's attitude, but I was still mildly surprised by how much he had changed by the end of your story. It would be interesting to see what happens from here, but I won't repeat the rash of good ideas mentioned by the others. Good job!

Thanks Bill-

 

I've always been confounded by the fanaticism that leads to actions such as those of the kamikaze pilots in WWII of the suicide bombers of today. The weak minded who place such faith in anything, be it political or religious doctrine, are a dangerous lot.

 

Thanks for reading and leaving me a comment. I'll add you to the "More Suggested" column LOL

 

Carlos

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On 12/12/2014 08:14 AM, Cole Matthews said:
Great job Carlos! You took on an epic tale and subject. Its good to see you took the leap. Im very proud of you!
Thanks Cole-

 

Your comments made me think a lot and although I may not have listened to all of them, they will resonate in my mind during future writing attempts. Just hope you're ready because if I listen to all these people and write some more about Aitor, Lars, and yes Jessie as you also suggested, you'll have more reading to do! :P

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I really enjoyed this story. It was rather chilling to read about the massive infection and deaths, and then to watch the development of all three of the main characters, especially Jessie.

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People don't truly understand the danger of biological warfare. Something genetically engineered and brewed in a lab that humans have no natural immunities is a nightmare a lot of us just wish would go away. It's much cheaper and easier than nuclear weapons and there are tones of morally crippled people out there with a big enough chip on their shoulder to pull the entire plug on humanity.

There is drama enough in this dark genre to keep a legion of authors occupied.

I enjoyed it and have to compliment several things that you've done. The organism- such a beastie has been created. It's called a chimera and the Russians played with it in the 1980s. They created an organism that was basically several organisms cobbled together. That was with very rudimentary knowledge. What can be done now is very scary to think about.

The selectivity of the organism was accurate because such a bug would have to have very specific receptor sites. It's not something that would cross species.

Dying with the host is also accurate for a bug with retro-virus characteristics.

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The story was definitely a gripping one. You have a wonderful sense of the world after a major disaster. You crafted your story very well. I wish you had gone on to use more though. I have already seen comments on things they were expecting you to describe.

The three main characters work well together. You can see how a doctor and soldier can easily find a way to survive and a mechanic who only can have sex with a woman when he is drunk and out of it can slowly find love with such men. Just wish you had spent a bit more time developing that relationship. Enjoyed it when you had your characters talking, because it gave us a real sense of who they were. Their sense of humor, the language choices, and all made them come to life. Great story and hope to see more from you in future anthologies.

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On 12/12/2014 11:38 AM, craftingmom said:
I really enjoyed this story. It was rather chilling to read about the massive infection and deaths, and then to watch the development of all three of the main characters, especially Jessie.
Thank you, Mom- for reading, for reviewing and for helping out the young pup :) I value the help I'm getting as I get my feet wet around here and I'm trying to pay it forward a bit but I can only do so much with my limited experience.
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On 12/12/2014 02:09 PM, jamessavik said:
People don't truly understand the danger of biological warfare. Something genetically engineered and brewed in a lab that humans have no natural immunities is a nightmare a lot of us just wish would go away. It's much cheaper and easier than nuclear weapons and there are tones of morally crippled people out there with a big enough chip on their shoulder to pull the entire plug on humanity.

There is drama enough in this dark genre to keep a legion of authors occupied.

I enjoyed it and have to compliment several things that you've done. The organism- such a beastie has been created. It's called a chimera and the Russians played with it in the 1980s. They created an organism that was basically several organisms cobbled together. That was with very rudimentary knowledge. What can be done now is very scary to think about.

The selectivity of the organism was accurate because such a bug would have to have very specific receptor sites. It's not something that would cross species.

Dying with the host is also accurate for a bug with retro-virus characteristics.

Hey James- The creation of the killing agent and its characteristics was an area I wanted to touch on but one where I also could have provided some more detail. I have a lot of my research saved and if I ever expand the story I'll provide a bit more detail including some historical data. I wholeheartedly agree with you, the nuclear threat is horrendous but a biological or chemical attack is much more likely and dangerous.The Anthrax scare post 9/11 or the Sarin gas incident in Tokyo are just a microscopic example of what could happen.

 

Thank you for reading and for taking the time to leave such a great comment!

 

Carlos

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On 12/12/2014 04:43 PM, comicfan said:
The story was definitely a gripping one. You have a wonderful sense of the world after a major disaster. You crafted your story very well. I wish you had gone on to use more though. I have already seen comments on things they were expecting you to describe.

The three main characters work well together. You can see how a doctor and soldier can easily find a way to survive and a mechanic who only can have sex with a woman when he is drunk and out of it can slowly find love with such men. Just wish you had spent a bit more time developing that relationship. Enjoyed it when you had your characters talking, because it gave us a real sense of who they were. Their sense of humor, the language choices, and all made them come to life. Great story and hope to see more from you in future anthologies.

Hey Wayne-

Thanks for the comment. I tackled a complex story and my rookie jitters didn't let me do it justice.I'm glad so many readers have left comments pointing out the good, the bad and the ugly because they will help me out in the projects I have planned for the coming year. I already have a rough idea of something for the next anthology but in a completely different genre, guess I'm still trying to experiment all over the place. So I'll be back, in the meantime I have a little Christmas tale coming up and then a couple of other things starting in January. Hope I can keep you reading my stuff!

 

Carlos

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I liked the characters, especially their conversations/banter. Why the bio weapon was developed and how it was spread was plausible. As a non American I got a little lost in the description of their travel route. Do I really need this information? I was tempted to grab a map. A little more emotions, for example to explain the development of their relationship or what they thought of the horrors they must have encountered during their journey, would have helped to feel/connect with the MC's. But maybe that's just me, I love to read/write this stuff.

I'd love to read an expanded version of this story. I really like the setting and the idea. Well done. :)

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On 12/13/2014 03:37 AM, aditus said:
I liked the characters, especially their conversations/banter. Why the bio weapon was developed and how it was spread was plausible. As a non American I got a little lost in the description of their travel route. Do I really need this information? I was tempted to grab a map. A little more emotions, for example to explain the development of their relationship or what they thought of the horrors they must have encountered during their journey, would have helped to feel/connect with the MC's. But maybe that's just me, I love to read/write this stuff.

I'd love to read an expanded version of this story. I really like the setting and the idea. Well done. :)

Adi-

Give me a break! The two main characters are Europeans, their adventure starts in Canada and the the nasty bug is developed and dispersed in Asia. I had to throw myself a bone and detail the road trip or people would have questioned whether I was an American or not!

 

My self imposed limits on what I wrote about and didn't are obviously the main fault found with the story. Going over 10K words was a ceiling I set and feared surpassing, but in the long run it may be for the best. I'm thinking to do the story justice it would require more than the 20k limit for the antho, based on what the reviewers seem to want more of. IF I do blow up my little short story, each of those stops will end up serving a great purpose. As a stopping point for the guys and a place in which to expand descriptions of characters, relationships and events.

 

Thanks for the comments and let me know if you want me to email you a copy of the map I used to plot their stops. Yes I do have one, needed to pace things properly so they'd end up in Florida for Thanksgiving! :P

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The interaction between your characters keep me enthralled throughout the story. Even with all the horrible things on the horizon, the story never made me stop reading. I'd love to see a little more of what happened . Great take on the Antho theme.

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