An Apocalypse Family (Book 1): Family Reunion Read online

  “Lisa, are you okay?”

  She ran a hand through her hair and looked as if she was contemplating an answer. “Yeah, I’m fine. I actually feel hungry,” she finally replied.

  I chuckled. “Well, that’s a good sign, I guess.”

  I moved around and threw some of the ceiling tiles off me to see if I could locate Max. The last place I’d seen him before the grenades went off was over by the door. He wasn’t there. I noticed that the boards were missing from the doorframe, although the door seemed to be fine and was still shut.

  I collected myself and cleared away the junk, which was mostly ceiling tiles and boxes from the shelves. Having tidied up a bit, I decided to go look for Max.

  “Lisa, I need to go find out what Max is up to. Why don’t you try to find the least disgusting MRE there and eat a little? Don’t overdo it.”

  She gave me a weak smile. “Okay, and what if the monsters come eat me while you’re out looking for Max?”

  “Valid point, my dear.” I unholstered the M9 and held it up. “Have you ever fired one of these?”

  She reached up and took the weapon, popped the magazine out, racked the slide, and caught the round that was in the chamber as it flew out.

  “Please… your brother had me shooting before I could spell my name.”

  “Okey-dokey, Annie Oakley,” I said with a smile. Damn, I wish I’d done the same with Auddy. Please God, let her be okay.

  I handed her one of the extra magazines. “We need a password to make sure we’re good when we come back. What works for you?”

  Lisa came back quickly with an answer. “I’ll be Raven and you can be Chicken One, and Dad can be Chicken Two.”

  “Chicken One? I think I can come up with something better than that.”

  “Nope. I insist. Besides, who is ever going to guess that?”

  I had to admit that she had me there. “Okay, but if someone has me at gunpoint or something, I will change it to Eagle One, okay?”

  “Good thinking, Chicken One!” she giggled.

  I grimaced and continued, “Right, so I will only go out and look around for a few minutes, then I will come back and check on you.”

  “Roger that, Chicken One!”

  I am definitely changing this shit soon. If she thinks it’s cute I will let it go for now, but Chicken One? Really? In all the books I’d ever read, the guys always had really cool names. Chicken One is bullshit—although it did make me laugh.

  I cracked the door and peeked out. “Roger that, Raven,” I said over my shoulder. “I will be right back.”

  Oh crap, Sarah is going to be pissed when she sees what Max did to her house.

  I looked up the stairway to what used to be the first floor. A predawn hue promised another day, something that I realized was no longer to be taken for granted. I stepped over some pieces of unidentifiable debris.

  The top of the stairs ended in the kitchen, or where it used to be. I could see the sky. Hmmm… not good, not good. As I climbed the stairs, I heard something moving around.

  “Max? Is that you?” I called out. “Yeah, just me, and a bunch of zombie parts,” he answered back.

  I crested the stairs and turned toward the front room. The house was a total loss. There was a big hole that used to be an exterior wall. The interior walls were peppered with shrapnel and stains of what must have been the blood of the freaks.

  “Zombies are undead things that you have to decapitate or shoot in the head to kill,” I said, approaching him. “These things aren’t dead and can be killed with a body shot.” I put my hands on my hips. “And furthermore, they don’t get back up after you shoot them.”

  “I stand corrected, little brother. And what other conclusions have your skilled observations helped you arrive at?” he said, mimicking my stance.

  His sarcasm ignored, I went on. “Well, it appears they don’t enjoy the sunshine, or even the overcast skies of the great state of Washington.”

  He interrupted again, “And the bastards can’t stand a good fragging.”

  I looked around at the devastation his grenade traps had caused. “You realize that if Sarah ever comes back here, your ass is kaput.”

  “What? They were your damn grenades.”

  I just shook my head. “Come on, we need to get Lisa and talk about what’s next on our agenda.”

  We collected everything that we thought would be useful and packed it into the two vehicles. Then we sat down to discuss our next move. Lisa was still nowhere near one hundred percent, but she had a vote in everything we decided.

  Max and I each had our own ideas about what to do. I, for one, said that we should head up to Parker’s house in Everson after returning to the ferry to collect the rest of the guns and stuff I left there. Parker was our older brother. He lived a short distance from the Canadian border and kept a bunch of stuff we could stand to have, especially his local knowledge. He and his wife, Rhonda, were mother-earth kind of folks. She was retired now, and Parker worked for the state fish and game department. He got the job because of his extensive knowledge of the peregrine falcons in the area, and all other manner of bird species. His love of falcons was second only to his love for his wife, although she debated that.

  Max wanted to go to the ferry also, but then head directly for Meg’s house in eastern Washington to hook up with her and Sarah and the kids. Lisa didn’t really care either way, but tended to side with Max just because. There were other things to take into consideration.

  I’d one or two concerns. “Max, who was still trying to make it to the reunion? Is there a chance anyone got all the way to the island? Or maybe someone who might still be stuck at the airport?”

  He rubbed his temples and thought for a minute. “Well, everyone from San Diego was going to drive up. Jake and Carla were going to bring Lauren and Steve and stop in Portland to pick up Conner, and…”

  I’d been holding up my hand since he got to the part about Jake and Carla. I choked up a bit and took a deep breath.

  “Jake died from the flu. I don’t know what Carla was planning, but I doubt they left San Diego.”

  Max knew how that had to have affected me, and just said, “Aw shit, sorry man.”

  I waved my hand in a circle indicating he should continue.

  “Well,” he said, “that means Barb and all of her clan probably didn’t head out either.” Barb was our oldest sister and her clan was composed of about twenty other nieces, cousins, and assorted family.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “What about Maddie, wasn’t she flying up from Texas?”

  Max gave a quick shake of the head. “No, she and her husband were borrowing a friend’s RV and driving. Jean was flying to Colorado to hook up with Lynn, and they were going to drive to Meg’s before heading out to the coast.”

  So, that accounted for all of our immediate family, as Jean and Lynn were our other sisters. There were still more cousins and our one surviving aunt, but neither Max nor I knew their travel plans.

  “What about Trish?” I didn’t want to ask because Trish was his daughter from his first marriage. I knew it was a touchy subject, but I touched it anyway.

  Max got a faraway look in his eyes, as if remembering a long ago time when life was just getting started.

  “She’s at her mom’s place with Frank. They were going to come over for a day, but with what happened, they are probably going to hole up at the farm.”

  He grimaced, then said, “Damn place is way the hell out in the boonies, so they’re good for now.”

  I put both hands on my knees and sighed. “I would feel better if we at least did a drive-by at Parker’s before heading to Meg’s, but I will go along with whatever you guys decide.”

  Max looked over at Lisa. “What do you think?”

  She pursed her lips. “Look, Uncle Parker can take care of himself, and he may even think to come here. I think we should leave a message for him, telling him our plans and asking him to check the island to see if anyone got there. Then we
should go get the stuff from the ferry and head to Meg’s.”

  I must have done a double take, because she just looked at me and said, “What?”

  I laughed and stood. “Lisa, that is probably the most cogent, well-spoken idea that has been put forth at our little meeting; I second that, let’s go!”

  Max grinned. “That’s my girl! Let’s do it!”

  Chapter 3

  Family

  MADDIE & HARRY

  SOUTH OF RAYMONDVILLE, TEXAS

  ONE WEEK BEFORE OUTBREAK

  At sixty, cousin Maddie was still beautiful. She had to fight to keep ol’ man time from getting the best of her, but she was active and physically fit. She would go down someday, she knew, but it would be kickin’-n-screamin’. Her strawberry blond hair had some gray to it, but she’d taken to dying that out years ago. She rode her horses, tended to her livestock, and was about as real a cowgirl as you would ever meet. She could sing like an angel and drink you under the table if she’d a mind to.

  She’d lived a good part of her life as a singer in multiple country western bands after migrating to Texas in her twenties. Maddie was also a nurse anesthetist by trade and had the funds to support the lifestyle she’d become accustomed to. She had a son, Branson, from her first marriage; he was on his own, living life as a twenty-eight-year-old.

  Maddie had met and married Harry a few years ago; robbing the cradle, so to speak, as he was forty-nine now, and barely able to keep up with her. That’s not to say he wasn’t in good shape. He weighed 175 pounds, but at 5´9˝, he was solid and strong. He had blue eyes and blond hair and the women said he was cute, in a manly way. Harry owned a towing company and specialized in towing big rigs and unusually large vehicles. He was constantly teased because his last name was Towes—no kidding, Harry Towes. He’d become quite the fighter in grade school, where the other kids teased him about his hairy toes. Even after he was much older, he’d been in a few scraps over his name. Eventually he got past it and used it to promote his business.

  Harry mostly just nodded, throwing out an, “uh-huh,” and a “you bet, sweetie” every once in a while, while Maddie held up the conversation.

  She was a prepper. That is to say, she was sure the government was heading to hell in a hand basket, and she would be ready when it happened. She and Ryan had kept in touch over the years, both leery of the direction the country was headed. Where Ryan was somewhat prepared for the collapse of society, Maddie was fucking A prepared. Perhaps even a little bit anxious to try out all of her goodies. She wasn’t paranoid, just prepper-anoid. She would tell you this and then laugh with such gusto that you had to laugh with her.

  She’d given thought to calling off the trip when the flu started in South Africa, but Ryan had given her a hard time. He joked with her that if the shit did hit the fan while they were at the reunion, he would need her help protecting all the helpless liberals. She laughed and told him she would see.

  Once she’d decided to go, they made the decision to drive because Harry didn’t like to fly. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t, just that he didn’t like to. They were due for some time off anyhow, and Harry’s kids wanted him to get away from the shop for a while.

  Maddie looked around at RVs and thought about buying a camper to tow behind one of their trucks. She changed her mind when a wealthy client, who was also a good friend, asked Harry if he wanted to borrow his Marathon motor coach. Harry didn’t explain to Maddie that they were going to Oregon, drop it off, and pick up a new one his client had ordered.

  Maddie literally did a little dance when she saw the coach for the first time.

  “DAMN Harry, this thing is a mansion on wheels!” she said, feeling the custom wood finish inside the door. “This is too nice; we can’t borrow this.”

  Harry smiled. “Uh-huh, you bet we can, sweetie.” And that was that.

  She spent the next day and a half loading the considerable storage areas with all the things a prepper considered nice to have in case of TEOTWAWKI. She was looking forward to the trip north, which would take them through some of the most beautiful country in the world.

  *****

  Carla

  9:00 a.m.

  San Diego International Airport

  One Day before Outbreak

  Carla Wilford sat in the Range Rover in the cell phone lot. She marveled at how excited she still got picking up Jake from his frequent business trips, even after twenty-eight years of marriage. He worked for a marketing firm that handled all of the mailers and telemarketing for one of the big three automakers. His territory had increased over the last couple of years as the company merged with another company and cut staff, increasing his workload, the number of dealerships, and trips away from home. He didn’t complain, as the pay was good. He enjoyed the work, and most importantly, he still had his job.

  She was also excited to be leaving for two weeks of time off with the family. Lauren and Steve, her daughter and son-in-law, were waiting at the house, ready for the long road trip to Portland, Oregon. There they would pick up Conner, the youngest Wilford, and head the rest of the way to Whidbey Island in Washington for the reunion. Conner was just finishing his last semester of college, and after the reunion, they would all head back to Portland for his graduation ceremony.

  Carla was the shortest member of the family, but she ran her clan like a congenial chief boatswain’s mate. Jake was the man of the house and often equated himself to the captain of the ship. He did what the chief said and basked in the glory of being captain.

  Lauren and Steve had just moved from the East Coast after finishing their university experience. Steve was in the Navy ROTC and needed to complete a yearlong internship before his commission as a chaplain came about. Lauren, following family tradition, was a registered nurse. Two of her great aunts, Jean and Meg, were both RNs, and Lauren had always thought that it was cool. After two years of actual nursing experience, however, she realized that “cool” was a matter of perception.

  Carla glanced at her watch for the third time in as many minutes. The flight was two hours late as it was; Jake should be on the ground, headed for baggage claim. She thought about just heading over now, but she’d jumped the gun before and suffered the wrath of the airport police for loitering too long in the pickup area. She would wait for him to call.

  Her mom and sister were also going to Washington but wouldn’t leave until tomorrow, as the rest of the family had to work right up to their departure. She was glad they would be traveling separately. Their group might be twenty-plus people, and that always led to drama and delays.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the familiar “YO-HO-BLOW-THE-MAN-DOWN” ringtone. They were a nautical kind of family; at least Jake thought they were, as he clung to his old Coast Guard days. She pushed the phone button on the steering wheel.

  “Hey Hon,” she answered, putting the Rover in gear. “On my way.”

  “Okay,” Jake replied, not sounding his usual chipper self.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, just got a bit of jet lag, I think,” he replied. “We were sitting on the ground for two hours in Hawaii waiting for clearance. There was some kind of BS about the Department of Homeland Security or something. Anyhow, I will be at the curb in a couple of minutes.”

  “I will be here waiting,” she said, as she jockeyed between two limos for a spot.

  Four hours later, they were on the 805 Freeway, headed north to Interstate 15, then on to the I-5. This would take them inland a bit and was an easier route than trying to hug the coast all the way to Oregon. Carla was worried about Jake. He’d thrown up at the house before they left, although he insisted he just needed some sleep. She’d been seeing the South African Flu story on the news, but that was on the East Coast, and Jake had been in Honolulu for the last week. Oh well, even if he picked up a bug, she would pamper him back to health over the next couple of days. She just felt bad for him, being sick while on the road.

  Looks like Steve and I will be doing most of
the driving, she thought, as she watched Jake sleep fitfully.

  *****

  Jean, Lynn, Madison, & Tyler

  8:00 a.m.

  Butte, Montana

  One Day Before Outbreak

  “She’ll be coming around the mountain, she’ll be coming around the mountain, she’ll be coming around the mountain when she comes…” Aunt Jean finished with a flurry and everyone giggled.

  “Let’s do Michael Finnegan,” shouted Tyler from the backseat of the Prius.

  “Uuughhh!” Madison cried. “We’ve been singing that one for the last twenty-four hours!”

  “Oma,” Tyler complained to Lynn, “why do we always have to sing what Madison wants?”

  They were on the way to Aunt Meg’s house in Washington, and were two hours on the road after stopping for the night in Bozeman, Montana.

  “Listen you two, do I have to pull this car over and give you what for?” Lynn couldn’t finish the sentence with a straight face, and everyone burst into a fit of laughter.

  Jean had flown to Denver from Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, where she lived, to catch a ride with Lynn and her grandkids to the reunion. Of all Ryan’s brothers and sisters, these two were as thick as thieves. Jean was the second child and Lynn the fourth. Lynn also had the distinction of being the youngest girl. That being said, neither were spring chickens. Jean was sixty-six, and she and Max were the rebels of the family. She would fit most comfortably in the “tough old broad” category these days. You did not fuck with Jean. Lynn was only a step behind Jean, but had somehow inherited a bit more tact from the family gene pool—not much, but enough to be a calming force in tense situations. The two together were hell on wheels.

  Lynn was a motivational speaker, a life coach, and ran a successful art camp for women. She prided herself on her fitness, both mental and physical. She’d toned down many of her business interests in favor of caring for her grandkids, whom she loved and helped raise when their father turned out to be a dud. Lynn was a “can do,” type-A personality and knew that she could defeat any obstacle put before her, given enough time and resources.