ASCENSION: THE SYSTEMIC SERIES (7 page)

Things were coming together just the way Ava wanted, but Jake had no idea that this was the case.

Not everything was smooth sailing though.  Several Miami neighborhoods proved tougher nuts to crack than Ava had expected.  But again, in moves that were straight out of a war strategy textbook, Ava decided to skip these areas of greatest resistance, cutting them off from any supply lines or reinforcements simply by moving past them and surrounding them.  This “island hopping” campaign through the city allowed her to control everything moving into or out of these cut off sections by overrunning the outlying areas.  She understood that while this might leave these strongholds in place temporarily, after a week or so of being cut off from food, water, ammunition, and other supplies, some of the resistance would just give up, some of it would be killed while scavenging for supplies, and those who remained would likely be so demoralized, exhausted, and hungry after holding out against the elements without any relief that they’d eventually just surrender.

Her plan worked perfectly.  And a month after their arrival, all of the outlined areas on Ava’s map except one – a particularly strong enclave in Little Havana – were under their control.

CHAPTER 6

Ray and I waited until we met the rest of Gordon’s crew before going back to get the pickup truck and the rest of our group.  I wanted to make sure that what he’d told us was true regarding how many men he had with him and whether they were indeed injured before putting our family members at risk.               

Once they were on the scene though, we worked quickly.  I was concerned that whoever had reaped such destruction upon Gordon and his men could return and do the same thing to us.  Whoever they were, they certainly had some serious firepower if they were able to take out a convoy the size of Gordon’s and leave it so completely devastated.

In addition to Gordon and Jeff, we were hurriedly introduced to Gordon’s youngest son, Barry, who’d been shot in the arm, as well as his nephews Andrew and Ian.  Ian had been grazed by a bullet fragment or piece of shrapnel across his right temple, as well as being shot through the right leg.  The bullet had passed clean through his thigh.  The wound was pretty nasty looking and I wasn’t sure how it would heal, but Claire and Pam got the two men’s wounds cleaned and patched up as best they could before we loaded everyone back into our pickup truck and trailer.

While they worked on the wounded, I took the kids to sit up front in the pickup’s cab so that we could load the bodies of Gordon’s dead sons Billy and Jerry, as well as of his nephew Edwin, onto the trailer.  We covered them with one of our extra blankets in an effort to provide some dignity to the deceased, respect to Gordon, and keep the gruesome sight of the dead men from the curious gazes of the children.  I figured that Paul and Sarah could probably handle it after what they’d been through over the past year, but I really didn’t want my little three-year-old son Jason waking up at night screaming with nightmares of bullet-ridden, burned, and bloodied corpses.

Then we got the rest of the family and the remaining wounded loaded up and started east towards the coast at a pretty good clip.  I hoped that Gordon was being truthful with us about having fuel, because we were literally running on empty.  If it was a lie, we would find ourselves stranded and having to spend some additional time scavenging the area for more.  But Gordon seemed like a decent individual.  He’d been forthright with us so far.  Of course right now he was desperate, and desperate men said and did desperate things.

Thankfully though, it wasn’t a lie.  It turned out that Gordon was actually very well situated at his little spot on the coast and we ended up spending around three weeks with him and his family. We almost felt like prisoners – although extremely happy ones – as Gordon refused to let us leave until he felt he’d thoroughly repaid us for what we’d done to help him and his boys.  He lavished us with food, drink, new clothing, and anything else we needed.  And over the weeks we spent with him, our families grew to become quite close.  We told them the story of how we’d ended up in Florida all the way from Chicago, and they explained how they themselves had survived the flu and built their post-flu business. 

And so, over the ensuing weeks, we lived with them, we laughed with them, and we cried and mourned with them, attending the family funeral they held for the three men – their three boys – killed on the fuel salvage run.  It was a tough time for their family, but I think it helped having us there.  They seemed to appreciate the new faces, and Gordon’s wife Samantha, his daughter Danielle, as well as his brother’s wife Cindy, all made a big fuss over Jason and Pam.  Pam was now working on month number four – although without a doctor’s expertise, we relied upon our best estimate of conception – of her pregnancy and had a nice round baby bump to show for it.

We found that Gordon had a pretty nice little situation going for himself and his family on north Florida’s Atlantic coast.  He was involved in much of the trade along the stretch of coast that reached from south Jacksonville to north Daytona.  He said he preferred to stay away from the more urbanized areas as they tended to present characters like those he’d encountered the day we’d met him on his fuel run.  The results of that run-in were exactly why he liked his quieter, lesser-developed, and lesser-populated stretch of A1A.  He was a businessman, not a mercenary.  And while he recognized that guns –having replaced the cell phone as the “must have” device of those involved in regular commerce – often accompanied post-flu business transactions, it didn’t mean that he enjoyed using them.

The core of Gordon’s business was trade and transportation, but he dabbled occasionally in services since customers without tradable wares often had to pay with their time and physical labor. 

Several of Gordon’s buddies who had survived the flu worked for him in his quite successful taxi service.  Even after Armageddon had struck, people still needed to get around, and Gordon had realized that without gas stations or reliable transportation for many flu survivors, being able to get from point A to point B was not as simple as it sounded.  He painted several of his vehicles bright yellow and would send them up and down A1A and US1 three times a week to make the run from south Jacksonville to north Daytona.  He told us that he’d tried running all the way to Miami in the beginning, but two of his cabs never returned from their trips.  Therefore, he labeled that portion of coastline too dangerous.  Now he kept his cabs close to home.  With phone service no longer available, creating a regular schedule allowed riders to be out and on the side of the road for pickup at pre-set times each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

One of the major stops on the line was Gordon’s own trading post, which was attached to his garage shop.  In this way, people could fulfill their weekly shopping needs at his store while at the same time using his cab service.  It was a win/win for him and his establishment.  He had actually been thinking of expanding his operation to open two more stores, one at the north end of his route and one to the south so that he could begin and end his cab service entirely from businesses that he owned.  The loss of his two sons and nephew had been a severe setback though in this area as he had planned on having them help get the two new locations up and operating as well as to eventually assist in running the stores and taxi service.

At the end of our multi-week stint with Gordon and his family, I let him know about our plans to continue our trek south.  He brought Will, Ray, dad, and me over to his garage for beers while the women shopped in the attached store and picked out some new clothing and other accessories for the trip.

Gordon had a private tiki bar out back, complete with bar stools and thatched palm frond roof under which we could sit comfortably in the shade.  Gordon played the role of bartender, pulling cold beers from a cooler full of ice, popping them, and lining them up before us on the bar.  Then he popped one for himself and took a long swig.  

“
Ahh
,” he exhaled.  “That’s good.  Amazin’ how much you appreciate a cold beer these days,” he nodded.

We all took drinks ourselves, relishing the carbonated coolness as it trickled down our parched throats. 

“So you’re leavin’ us?” Gordon said after another drink of his beer.

“Looks that way,” I nodded.  “We need to move on.  We have a plan we’re trying to stick to and we’ve been enough of a burden to you and your family.”

“No burden at all,” Gordon countered quickly.  “Fact, it’s been a pleasure.  But if you’re set on goin’, y’all best be careful out there.  The Fort Lauderdale and Miami areas ain’t like they are up here.”  Then he snorted, “Heck, even up here don’t seem all that safe anymore.  I used to think I had it made here, that I’d be able to retire soon and let the boys handle everything.”  His eyes became red and watery at their mention.  “Now that’s all changed.”  He wiped them dry with the back of his hand.  “Hate to see fine folks like y’all get yourselves into trouble.”

“Thanks Gordon,” I smiled at him.  “But we’re pretty good at taking care of ourselves.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I suppose y’all are if you’ve made it this far, but still…it ain’t no joke down there.”  He paused and took another drink.  “When y’all thinkin’ ‘bout leavin’?”

“Probably a couple days from now…if you’ll have us that much longer,” I added.

“Our pleasure,” he smiled.

He paused for a moment, considering, and then said, “I’m gonna throw somethin’ out there for you to ponder on.  Don’t wanna put a kink in your works or anything, but it’s another option…maybe a safer option.  And options ain’t all that plentiful these days.”

We sat sipping our beers, waiting curiously to hear what Gordon had to say as we sweated in the shade of the tiki bar’s awning.

“With the loss of my boys, I’m a little short handed ‘round here now.  I could use some help, but I can’t bring just anybody onboard.  First off, the labor pool ain’t what I’d exactly call full these days, and findin’ trustworthy individuals that I can depend on is near impossible.  So many people these days will rip you off the second they get the chance or they’re drunks or drug addicts or just damn unreliable.”  He took another long drink of his beer.  “What y’all think of our families mergin’?  I think it could be a good move for both sides.  It’ll give me the extra bodies…trustworthy bodies I might add…I need to expand my little empire.  Same time, it’d give you all fine folks the opportunity to settle down.  Heck, I’d even consider givin’ you part ownership in the business with the opportunity to eventually buy out one of the stores from me once y’all understand the operation.”

The offer caught me slightly off guard, and while Gordon might not have wanted to throw a “kink in the works,” as he put it, that was exactly what he was doing, albeit a kink created from kindness.

“Well Gordon…” I started, but he raised a hand to stop me.

“Don’t answer now,” he said.  “Think about it.  Talk it over with the rest of your group.  Sleep on it.  There’s no hurry to make a decision.  I want you and yours to be sure about whatever you decide.” 

He pulled more beers from his cooler and lined them up on the bar before us.  “For now, let’s just drink a while and enjoy ourselves,” he said, popping them open and passing them out to us.  “We’ve all had a rough go of it, and the road ahead still looks pretty bumpy.  So let’s enjoy good booze and good company,” he said, raising his bottle to us.

“Here, here,” we toasted him back.

* * *

Two days after Gordon’s incredibly generous offer, we were packed up and prepared to head on our way, determined to make our dreams of a home unencumbered by the unruly hands of outsiders a reality.

It seemed like a stretch in so many ways, but we felt it important to try.  If nothing else, we owed it to our children who deserved to be raised without living in constant fear and having to look over their shoulders, watchful for the ever-present threat of being struck down by a hooligan gang of assholes over a tank of gas or a couple cans of baked beans.

We had been well-rewarded by Gordon for our assistance in his time of need.  Besides letting us stay with him for three weeks, he provided us with two new vehicles – big SUVs in which we could all fit comfortably.  Both vehicles came filled with fuel, plenty of food, and fresh drinking water.  As a special gift, he also gave us a brand new assault rifle with several hundred rounds of ammunition, as well as some extra ammo for several of our other weapons.

We were in the process of loading our personal belongings into our new rides when Ray pulled me aside.

“Can I have a minute?” he asked quietly.

“Sure,” I said, following him as he led me away from the others for some privacy.  “What’s up?” I asked, finding myself immediately concerned that something might be wrong with Pam and the baby.

“Pam and I are staying,” he said.

At first I smiled, relieved that nothing was wrong with Pam’s pregnancy, and thinking Ray’s words a joke, but as I looked at his face, I could tell he wasn’t just messing with me.  And the totality of what he’d just said hit me right in the gut.  The upbeat optimism with which I’d been trying to fortify myself for what I’d hoped would be the final leg of our trip south was suddenly shattered.

My mouth opened but I couldn’t talk I was so taken by surprised.  Finally I mustered a flabbergasted, “Are you
sure?
”

He nodded solemnly, “Pam and I talked it over together after Gordon made the offer the other day when we were having drinks.  I like your plan, and I think it’s a good one…for you…and maybe me and Pam one day, but not right now.  We have the baby and Pam’s health to consider.  She’s getting further along in the pregnancy, and I’m worried about taking her to Miami.  From what Gordon said, it could be really dangerous down there.”