Brushfire Plague Read online

  Mark interrupted, “Don’t we need to bury them?”

  Cooper shook his head firmly, “No, the risk of disease from dead bodies is grossly exaggerated and misunderstood. The truth is, as long as you keep corpses away from your water supply, there isn’t a risk of any disease spreading”

  Mark remained unconvinced. Cooper continued, “But, I tell you what. We should bury them because it will help with people’s spirits. Give closure.” And eliminate everyone worrying about disease spreading just as you’re doing.

  Mark nodded.

  “Second, we need to round up every able bodied adult who has ever handled a firearm before or is willing to learn. Third, we need to inventory all of our available means of defense. We’ll start with firearms, but we should include knives, baseball bats, and other hand to hand weapons. I suspect we will be noticeably short of guns. Finally, we pull everyone together, say first thing in the morning, and go over our plan.”

  Mark nodded as Cooper talked. A light returned to his eyes and a wide smile graced his lips. “Right on. I like it. We can’t just wait around like sitting ducks wondering what will happen.” Mark’s reaction proved the old axiom that getting people into motion during a crisis always elevated spirits.

  As the pickup pulled up curbside, Cooper finished his thoughts, “While Jake and I unload the truck, why don’t you go find us enough people to put a few pairs together to survey the block?”

  “Got it,” Mark responded, a twinge of excitement in his voice.

  “I’ll put together some sheets of paper and clipboards for people to use.”

  Mark nodded and trotted off. He was confident that Dranko would be one of the people Mark would ask to help out. He wondered if his friend had calmed down enough to join them.

  An hour later, the pickup was unloaded, the clipboards were ready, and three pairs were ready to go. Mark and Peter, Lisa and Lily, John and Freddie Jones. Freddie was in his mid-twenties and rented a room out in the neighborhood. His blonde hair would bob uncontrollably whenever he was laughing, which was often. He enjoyed laughing at his own jokes, most of which were, thankfully, funny. He was short but muscular. Today, he had a grim expression on his face and his normally alert blue eyes were downcast and placid.

  The others naturally gathered around Cooper when he moved toward them.

  “What we’re going to do is very simple. I know Mark has probably explained it, but let’s review it real quick. We need to knock on every door in our block, including the houses that face our block. We want to know three things: any deaths experienced in the household, any unburied deceased in the household, and what weapons they have available for the common defense. This last one is important: be clear you are asking if they have weapons they can lend to the neighborhood during this emergency. We aren’t taking anyone’s guns.”

  “That’s not a misunderstanding we want,” Freddie piped in. Everyone laughed nervously.

  “Right. We also want to invite everyone to a meeting, this evening at five o’clock. Right here, on my lawn. Ask each household to send one person. Tell them we’re going to make a plan to protect our neighborhood and we’re starting with a plan to defend our block. Questions?”

  “Won’t people be too afraid of getting sick to come to a meeting?” asked Peter.

  Cooper paused for a moment, the corners of his mouth turning downward, “That’s a good question. Some will be. But, you all weren’t too afraid. Why?”

  “I figured I’ve already been exposed to whatever this thing was and I just didn’t want to hunker down and wait to see if I was gonna get sick,” John chimed in without hesitation.

  “For me, I just didn’t want to be alone anymore. I knew it was probably dumb to come out, but I couldn’t stand it!” Freddie remarked.

  Cooper nodded, “Right. Some people will be too afraid to come out, but many won’t be for a variety of reasons. So, let’s ask people and see what we get.” The group nodded in agreement.

  “Shouldn’t we also track how many are sick in the household?” Lisa asked.

  Cooper didn’t hesitate, “No. We shouldn’t.” The faces around him went slack in surprise. He let what he’d said sink in before continuing. “One, we can’t do anything for those who are sick and all it will do is raise expectations that we will help them somehow. Second, people are still afraid so the data we collect wouldn’t be reliable. And, third, it could sound people’s alarm bells just by… ”

  Peter interjected, “Yeah, someone might think we’re going to round up all the sick people or something.”

  “Exactly. Since there is nothing we can do for them, it just isn’t worth it. We can do two things: dispose of the dead properly and respectfully, and keep those alive from getting hurt or worse by the bad guys.”

  “Any other questions?” Cooper paused for several seconds before continuing, “OK, let’s head out and meet back here when we’re done. Remember, don’t get caught into long conversations and try to be back here in two hours.”

  The groups nodded in response, gathered up their belongings and headed out.

  ******

  Later, a loud rapping of knuckles on the wooden door roused Cooper from the table where he had been cleaning his pistol. He moved quickly to the window and, peering out, saw Calvin furiously readying himself for another barrage on the door. He pivoted, moved a few steps to the door, and swung it open.

  Calvin pushed his way in, his face inches from Cooper’s, “What the hell is going on here,” he yelled.

  Cooper took a step back and waved his hands in front of himself, open-palmed, “Whoa, wait a second. What are you talking about?”

  “What are you doing is the real question, Cooper. I’m the President of our Neighborhood Association. Where do you get off sending out Gestapo teams to invade people’s privacy?”

  Cooper’s face flushed crimson, “Are you joking? That’s what has your panties in a bunch?” He immediately realized his mistake in saying that.

  Calvin stepped forward and poked Cooper hard in the chest with his middle fingers, “Don’t you dare patronize me like that! I ain’t takin’ that from you!” He had never seen Calvin get physical in anger or use anything less than proper English. Damn, he’s angry! His mind whirred, seeking a way to defuse him.

  Cooper disengaged his eyes and looked downward for a moment, “Look, I didn’t send out any Gestapo teams for Chrissakes. I just thought we needed to gather some information to organize the defense of our neighborhood.”

  “Defense? From what?” Calvin asked this as he took a step backward.

  “Haven’t you been watching the news? Have you gone outside the neighborhood? There’s chaos. People being shot.”

  Calvin shook his head in disbelief, “Well, of course, I have seen the news. But that has been in other cities and certainly nowhere near our neighborhood.” Cooper heard his pride shine through as he pronounced “our.”

  Cooper brokered a smile, “Calvin, there was a family massacred in their car less than a mile from here. Including three children.” He paused to let the words sink in and watched some of the color drain from Calvin’s face. “Look, our middle-class neighborhood doesn’t give us the security it used to. Before, most criminals would stay away, knowing we had good police patrols around here. It’s different now.”

  Calvin recovered, “OK. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we need to get ready. But, we have a structure here. We have an Association. We have meetings to decide things. I am the President of it. I, and the other officers, have worked hard for years to keep this neighborhood in order. I…I mean we can handle the job now.”

  Cooper kicked himself, I should have thought about this. The Association is Calvin’s life. He has always taken it too seriously. It is a large part of his identity. I hate politics and I hate ego more than that, but I need to be smart and deal with it. He swallowed hard and tasted the dryness of compromise, “You’re right. I should have called you and talked to you about this.”

  Calvin’s body loosened,
“It’s more than that. We could have helped. I could have helped. I have already received several phone calls from people who were freaked out when the teams knocked on their door. If I had known what was going on, I could have calmed them down.”

  Cooper bobbed his head up and down, “I got it. It won’t happen again. Can we sit down so I can fill you in on what’s been happening and what I’ve seen so far?”

  Calvin let loose a palpable exhale of relief and smiled, “That would be great.”

  ******

  When the teams reunited a few hours later and finished their debriefing, the news was sobering. Most of the homes had someone who had died from the plague or someone who was seriously ill. This was especially true of the homes with three or more people living there. They had encountered a few homes where no one answered and, upon entering, found the sole resident dead. In some cases, they found a couple both having died. Cooper’s rough estimate was that approximately one in six people had died, with that number likely to grow. He was staggered by the figures staring back at him and the pencil slipped from his fingers. He closed his eyes to steady himself.

  Their survey also revealed that several dozen bodies needed to be buried. Cooper knew that would take a lot of manpower. He was tempted to suggest the much simpler method of wrapping the bodies in blankets and putting them in a closed-up room, but he recalled from his talk with Mark how that could erode people’s spirits too much.

  When he turned to look toward the future, the worst news was the lack of weapons available for defense. Between all the homes, they had scarcely a dozen hunting rifles and shotguns and that number again in handguns. Worse, there was very little ammunition available and a few of the firearms had none available at all. Several of the rifles and handguns were small caliber .22s, which had limited value from a defensive standpoint. The one bright spot in the weapons report was that Mr. Hutchison unearthed a World War Two era Browning Automatic Rifle, also known as a BAR, which he had brought back from the war. This was a portable, light machine gun. He had a dozen magazines for it and a few hundred rounds of ammunition. Lisa had mentioned this at the end of the report and this news lifted Cooper’s spirits.

  Thinking to himself he muttered out loud without realizing it, “That can be our force multiplier.”

  Freddie asked the question on everyone else’s mind, “A what?”

  Cooper shook his head, “Sorry. Just thinking to myself. A force multiplier is a weapon that increases the strength of your force in excess of the weapon itself.”

  Lisa wagged her finger at him, “In English, please.”

  “It means that the BAR will be extremely effective. Any bad guys hearing a fully automatic weapon shooting bursts of high-powered bullets will think twice before continuing their attack. Just the sound of machine gun fire is psychologically intimidating, especially to people who have never been around it before. It sounds like the air is just full of bullets. Machine guns are also very effective at controlling lines of fire…in our case…the streets. In short, we’ll need to keep the BAR at an intersection to control as much street territory as possible and keep it mobile in the event of an attack so it can move quickly to the point of engagement.”

  “Got it,” Calvin responded for the group.

  “Alright, this is great work, everyone. Why doesn’t everyone go home, get some rest before tonight’s meeting, and come back a little before five to help me set up?”

  As everyone started to leave, Cooper remembered the lesson from earlier.

  “Calvin, can you stay behind a minute? You and I need to make a game plan for the meeting tonight.”

  “Of course.”

  After the others had left, Cooper motioned Calvin to the table and grabbed two cups of coffee from the kitchen.

  “I wanted to run by you some ideas I had for tonight’s meeting.”

  “Go ahead,” Calvin said measuredly.

  “Well, the first thing is to make plans to bury the dead over the next few days. Digging graves is hard work, but I figure that each two man crew could finish two to three a day without overexertion. They’ll have to be shallow. How many crews do you think we could pull together?”

  “It depends on who shows up. But, I would estimate that we could have four or five crews out of tonight’s meeting.”

  “That would be good. This would take three or so days then.”

  “Except more will keep dying,” Calvin said glumly.

  “True, but at least we’ll have started. That should lift spirits.” Calvin nodded in agreement. Cooper continued, “The next thing, the big topic, is organizing a neighborhood defense.”

  “Yes, tell me what you had in mind for that,” Calvin asked, stroking his chin.

  “It’s fairly simple. We need to organize a group of volunteers and then arm them with whatever we have. We’ll first take anyone who has military, police, or simply firearms training. After that, we’ll just take any able-bodied adult who’s willing. Then, we’ll establish a checkpoint and patrol schedule.”

  “Checkpoints?” Calvin’s eyebrows arched upward and his distaste for the word was apparent.

  “Yes, checkpoints. We put checkpoints on the four corners of our neighborhood and then have two roving patrols. It will be the easiest way to send a message to anyone looking for trouble that our neighborhood is organized and not easy pickings. My guess is that this will prevent ninety percent of any potential problems because they will see this and just drive on further down the road. The last thing we do is set up an easy protocol—if you hear gunfire or such, you grab your weapon and head towards it.”

  Calvin leaned back in his chair, “I don’t know Cooper. Checkpoints? It sounds kind of drastic to me. I like the idea of arming a team and even having patrols. But checkpoints that restrict people’s freedom to move around seems a bit extreme to me.”

  Cooper felt irritation flush his face, “Calvin, if you saw what I did today, you would understand that things have become extreme. In the last forty-eight hours, I’ve been involved in two shootings and seen over a half-dozen people killed by violence.”

  Calvin nodded his head for a moment, “OK. I understand your viewpoint. Let me think about it. I want to make sure we take all prudent measures without overreacting.”

  Cooper breathed deeply, barely hiding his frustration, “Alright, good enough. We can talk it over more tonight, but it would work a lot better if it had your support given how respected you are.” Calvin smiled at the compliment.

  “Tonight then,” he said as he rose to leave.

  Cooper couldn’t help but get the feeling that tonight’s meeting had just turned into a debating society. He grimaced at the thought. He’s still thinking things are roughly ‘normal’, unable to see that everything is coming completely unhinged around him. Cooper knew that Calvin wouldn’t be the only one caught in that outmoded way of thinking. In times of extreme crisis, one of the most difficult things for people to do was to acknowledge the crisis and then deal with it. The human predilection to deny unpleasant news—especially extremely unpleasant news—was very strong.

  He decided to prepare some shock treatment for the meeting tonight.

  Chapter 12

  A few streaks of sunlight cut through the overcast sky as they gathered in Cooper’s front yard. A chill enveloped them as afternoon turned to evening. The steps leading up to Cooper’s front door formed an impromptu speakers’ platform, on which Cooper, Calvin, and Jake stood. Off to their right, an eighty foot tall Deodar Cedar tree flanked the house. To the left, a clutch of white birch trees separated his home from the sidewalk. In between, close to fifty of his neighbors were assembled.

  The previous fifteen minutes had been marked by a growing murmur of a dozen conversations as they came together. The murmurs were often punctuated sharply by exclamations as they told one another of their losses. Very few exchanged a comforting hug, however. It was as if the physical restraint expressed itself in exaggerated verbal demonstrations of sympathy and support. Those
who are here overcame any paranoia of the plague, but at some subconscious level they are still afraid and are keeping some distance.

  While standing outside waiting for the past half hour, Cooper noticed only a few cars had passed and even less pedestrian traffic. Cooper noticed that only two other people had a handgun holstered to their side and Harry Ledger, a middle-aged insurance salesman who lived at the far end of the block, had a shotgun cradled in his arms. Cooper had been careful to keep his handgun on him, but had left his shotgun just inside the front door. Cooper knew that the task before him would be daunting. Too many don’t grasp that everything has fundamentally changed. Safety can no longer be assumed.

  He took a step forward and raised his hands. Within a few moments, the crowd had quieted. Taking a deep breath, Cooper was thankful he had seen his father address many a group when he was a young boy. He had learned many important lessons.

  “Good evening, neighbors,” he said and waited for the response back from the crowd. Create the group’s identity at the outset.

  “I want to thank you all for being here today. We live in fearful times and I know it took courage to come here.” Compliment the people, but be sincere.

  “Next time, we’ll all even shake hands.” Make a joke to put everyone at ease. People laughed, but Cooper heard the anxiety that hid behind it.

  “For those who know me well, you know I get straight to the point. I’ve asked you to be here because we must talk about the security of our neighborhood. The police are no longer on the streets. I’ve left this neighborhood three times in the last few days, been involved in two shootings, and seen the results of two other shootings. I believe most people are good, but it’s the few bad ones we all need to be worried about now. We need to make a plan for our neighborhood.” He paused, awaiting a response.

  Amidst people exchanging side glances and shuffling their feet, a voice rang out, “So, what’s the plan?”