“We need to gather all in one place,” Mrs. Finch said, her finger pointing.
“No. We are safer in our own homes,” Mr. Jones said.
“And what would I do in my house by myself? I don’t have any guns. I have no way to protect myself. And lights are going to go off soon,” Mrs. Finch shouted, her hands waving.
The more they talked, the more scared the rest of the group looked. Frenchie Davis’ two children, apparently the only two kids yet to survive, clung to their mother.
“We should get out of town. We need to head toward a military base. We need to get somewhere safe, get help,” Tom suggested looking at each of us in turn.
“The nearest base is more than 300 miles. We’ll never make it,” Jamie replied calmly.
“We don’t even know what caused it,” Mr. Jones said. “It could be anything. The food we eat. The water we drink. Something else in the environment. We don’t even know if we can eat the supplies we have. All of us could still get sick. With the T.V. out, we’ve no idea what’s happening.”
“911 went down yesterday, and now the phones are totally dead,” Mrs. Finch added.
“Could be a bio-weapon, a terrorist attack,” Tom suggested.
Jamie shook his head. “Whatever it is, I heard it hit Canada too. It’s spreading.”
“It could simply be the wrath of God,” Pastor Frank said solemnly.
“We need help. We need to all get together then head to a shelter, a base, something,” Mrs. Finch said, her fist pounding her hand to emphasize her words, her voice rising as she spoke.
And on they went. Some voices started to rise. The children started to cry. Finally, at some point, no one could hear anyone over the shouting.
I noticed then there was an air-horn canister on the shelf beside me. Frustrated, I picked it up and blew the horn. The wooong silenced the room.
“Right now we have no idea how many people are still alive in this town. We need to secure this place and get an accounting. First, we need to clear the dead bodies—we can bury them in the baseball field. Then we need to go around and see how many people are hiding in their houses. Once we have everyone accounted for, we can call a meeting and ensure people like Mrs. Finch are paired with others and can be kept safe—maybe we could use the elementary school as a base. This town is easy to defend. The lake has us protected on one side. The forest is on the other. There are only two roads and one bridge leading into this place. We need to get the town cleaned up then barricade the roads and put guards there.”
“Well, Ms. Ancient-Warfare-Know-it-All,” April began, “what about the bridge?”
Knowing how much she loved Kristie, I let it go. “We blow it up.”
The room went silent.
“And how do we do that? I guess I could Google it, but the world just came to a fucking end,” Jeff said.
“Larry’s Tree and Stump Removal—he has dynamite.”
Silence.
“She’s right. We hunker down. We keep each other safe. Most of us here can hunt and fish. We can secure this place,” Jamie said.
I smiled at Jamie.
With a half-smile, he tipped the brim of his hat toward me.
“Until help comes, right?” Ethel asked hopefully. Her obliviousness to the situation saddened me.
Jamie smiled softly at her. “Ethel . . . everyone . . . the reality is that help is not on the way. No reserves have been dispatched to Hamletville. I mean, they could barely evac New Orleans after Katrina. We’re not exactly high up on a government list of priorities.”
“We can be safe here, if we stick together,” I offered.
Not everyone looked sure, but after some consideration, the survivors agreed to be divided into teams. Some were sent to patrol the streets. Some were sent to gather supplies and convene at the elementary school. Fred Johnson went to the town garage to get a backhoe to bury the dead. Jeff and a handful of others headed off to Larry’s Tree and Stump Removal. After his comment outside, I secretly wished Jeff would blow himself up. We’d decided that two rings on the fire alarm meant assemble at the elementary school gymnasium, four rings if help had arrived, and six rings meant danger. Everyone was given medical gloves and strict advice to avoid touching dead bodies.
Ian and April moved Kristie’s body from the community center to the baseball field. I watched Ian go. He did not look back. I went back to my dirt-bike and got on. The body of the little girl still lay in the parking lot. I couldn’t look at it.
I was about to kick start the engine when Jamie came up to me. “Where are you headed?”
“Home. I need to bury my grandma.”
Jamie set his hand on my shoulder. His curly light brown hair, wet with sweat, stuck to his forehead. His blue eyes shined in the sunlight. He inhaled then exhaled heavily. “Sorry, Layla. Let me come help you.”
Grateful, I smiled. “Thank you.”
“You mind helping me with a little favor on the way?”