Apocalypse Drift (23 page)

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Authors: Joe Nobody

Tags: #Fiction, #Dystopian

BOOK: Apocalypse Drift
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A murmur spread around, everyone supporting Wyatt’s move. One of the women took it a step further, picking up an empty cardboard box and filling it with various dishes from the table. Someone else wrapped two of the steaks in tin foil. After the box was full, David took it, slowly approaching the gunman with the offering extended. “Here
ya go. Now please put the gun away, and leave us alone.”

Charlie’s eyes darted around the crowd. He started to take the box from David and then remembered. “How about you throw in a few cans of that beer, sonny? A man can get thirsty.”

David grunted, but did as requested. He returned the box to Charlie, who hefted it in one arm while still keeping the pistol pointed with the other. He backed up a few steps and then turned and hurried away.

 

After being robbed at gunpoint, the response from the marina crowd ranged from outrage to relief. Everyone seemed to start talking at once as soon as they realized no one was going to be shot. Hank was furious, going on and on about how someone should have rushed the bandit. Other men, including Wyatt, weren’t so sure. Hank’s voice carried a warning tone, “Mark my words everyone, he’ll be back and probably with several of his friends. Our little secret is out. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry who is hungry or craving a beer will be sticking a gun in our faces from now on.”

One of the other men disagreed, “Oh come on now Hank, the man had kids at home and was desperate. It’s the proper thing to share. We’ve plenty of food, and the government will get its act together soon. I don’t want to go to bed tonight worrying about hungry kids when we have so much.”

The debate raged back and forth for several minutes when Morgan decided to assert herself, “Oh now come on, folks! We’re not going to let one little ole holdup ruin a good Texas barbeque, are we? Let’s remember why we’re here and eat up. Come on now, everyone get a plate. Y’all can argue better on a full stomach anyway.”

Eventually the crowd settled down and began to plop spoons of potato salad and coleslaw onto paper plates. The mood was different, but the gathering carried on. Small groups of people mingled here and there, and conversations carried on in low, hushed tones.

David sat in a lounge chair next to his father. Slowly chewing a piece of steak, his voice was serious. “Dad, you know Hank is right. This is trouble. If anyone sees that guy walking back with that package of goodies, they’re going to demand to know where he got it. If any of his neighbors come to his house begging for food, he’ll tell them where to go. The marina just became the grocery store for that entire neighborhood. They could pick us clean in a matter of days.”

Wyatt nodded and took a sip of ice
d tea. He gestured around the perimeter of the marina with his hand. “David, there are probably 2,000 homes bordering this place. If the government doesn’t fix this soon, we are going to have more of a problem than anyone here can imagine.”

A foreboding mood dominated the rest of Wyatt’s afternoon. Several times, he started to express his inner concerns to David or Morgan, but he always stopped.
I’ll let them relax and enjoy the day
, he thought. In Wyatt’s mind, the robbery had been more than a temporary interruption of a cookout. He believed the act was a true indicator of a troublesome future.

Absentmindedly, Wyatt used his fork to toy with the few green beans remaining on his plate. He glanced around the pool, mentally taking stock of the group. Almost all of them were desperate to see law and order reestablished. He had watched
, studying their faces when the grind of a motor was detected or tale of a stranger was passed around. He’d noted that more than anything else, these folks paid attention to stories and rumors about the old world coming back. It cheered them up – gave them hope.

They’re frightened
, he deduced. They’re practically scared stiff and only going through the motions to survive. They’re hanging their hat on recovery, trying to hang on until rescue. How long can they survive without liberation? How long before they simply give up?

Wyatt lifted his cup of iced tea, smiling at the lady who offered a refill.

The world’s not coming back anytime soon
, decided Wyatt. Those little signs are false, creating a veneer that’s hiding the rot underneath. The gunman today scratched the surface, exposing everyone to a little bit of the truth. I sure hope all these nice people can handle it when reality hits them between the eyes.

 

Charlie’s family dug into the steak dinners. Rose instantly suspected the meal had been stolen, but didn’t ask any questions. Already-cooked steak, uncovered dishes of green beans and corn, combined with the pistol sticking out of her husband’s belt made it clear the banquet was of dubious origin. She was so tired, so worried about the kids, she didn’t even care.

She settled on rationing the groceries, placing limited portions on everyone’s plate. Charlie took a break from the beer he was enjoying, grunting disapproval when Rose sat his share on the table. He threw a questioning look at his wife, “What’s up with this? Wasn’t there enough in that box for everyone?”

Rose responded with a short tone. “We’ve got to make this last a few days, Charlie.”

He waved off her concern. “There’s plenty where that came from, Rose. I figured out all those boats over at the marina are full of food. There’s got to be barrels of gas for the generator
, too. I only brought back what I could carry this first trip.”

Rose’s hands went to her hips, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “Charlie, I’m
sure
you found this meat already cooked. Or did you decide to grill it on the way back? You took this food from someone. Don’t lie to me.”

Charlie shrugged his shoulders, “I got lucky and ran into a picnic. They were happy to share since they had so much.”

Rose shrugged dejectedly and shot him a look of “whatever,” moving to break up an argument between the kids. She was so hungry she really didn’t care where he had gotten the food, promising to take it up with him later. Charlie ate his share and finished off another can of brew. His mind was smug with relief as he gazed toward the marina, plans for the next visit forming in his head.

After one and all had eaten their fill, the ladies divided the leftovers while the men gathered at one end of the pool. Hank had settled down and was trying to sound reasonable, “I want to start off by apologizing. I should not have accosted that guy, no matter what I felt at the time. Someone could’ve gotten hurt, and that’s the last thing I want.” Looking around the group, he was relieved to see his apology was generally accepted. 

Wyatt, in a way, was relieved the episode had turned out as it had. Hank had always been a little bit of a hothead. Wyatt believed fast tempers could be extremely dangerous, now more than ever. Calling 911 wasn’t an option, and justice wasn’t real anymore - for good guys or bad.
Maybe this will cool his jets a little
, he thought.

Wyatt wasn’t sure why, but several of the men looked at him as if he were the leader of the group. The gathering became quiet, the men mulling around and glancing his way as if they were waiting on Wyatt to start the meeting.

Reluctantly, Wyatt said, “I think we need to keep an eye out for a few days. I don’t know what else to do. Everyone is pretty busy keeping up with battery charging, fuel transfer, and searching the boats. If we organize some sort of neighborhood watch, it’s going to draw down on our manpower.”

Several of the men voiced their agreement. A few, however, did not. One of them was David, and he spoke up, “I’m willing to pull extra hours to keep an eye on things. I think it’s obvious we’re going to have visitors, and I, for one, believe we should be ready to deal with them.”

Another man stepped forward. “What are we going to do? Shoot people? I think there is a higher moral question here – does everything in the marina really belong to us? Is it really ours to defend? What if the looters are women or children? Do we hold a trial? I have a lot of issues with all of this.”

Wyatt was quick to respond, “I agree. I’ve already run through all of this in my head, and it’s a difficult situation at best. Are we really going to be in an ‘every man for
himself’ environment? I can’t answer that right now, and I don’t think anyone else can either.”

David chimed in, “Let me ask everyone this – if we were all at home right now, wouldn’t we want our neighbors at the marina to protect our property for us? If any of the absent boaters arrived here
tomorrow, we can look them in the eye and say, ‘We only took what we needed.’ If we let random looters start raiding the marina, they may damage the boats and could take a lot more than food. ”

David’s comment caused everyone to pause. No one had really looked at things from that perspective as the focus had been on surviving day to day. Almost a minute went by before David continued. “If I may, how about we at least agree to meet in the morning, take an inventory of what weapons we have and begin to work on some sort of plan in case more strangers start showing up and causing trouble?”

Procrastinating seemed to agree with everyone as most of the men wanted time to think, perhaps talk it over with their spouses and families. Hank suggested meeting at the head of pier two at 8 a.m., and all agreed. The summit broke up, and everyone meandered back to their boats, carting the leftovers and dirty dishes.

As Wyatt’s family made the way back to Boxer, father and son dawdled, staying back a piece from the girls. David sensed his father’s discomfort, but misread the reason. “Dad, I’m sorry, but I had to speak up for what I felt was important back there.”

Wyatt stopped walking, uncertain where his son was going. It took a moment for David’s concern to sink in. Wyatt had to smile, “Son, I raised you to have respect for other people, but also to voice your own opinion. You didn’t show any disrespect to me at all. I’m proud of the way you handle yourself. The army’s done well with you.”

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