Brushfire Plague Read online

  Cooper picked up his own rifle from its resting position and began walking towards Jake. The rifle had never been so heavy. His heart was heavier.

  Chapter 19

  After dinner, he and Jake tried reading together again. They returned to the same position on the couch, but now everything seemed cold, stale. Cooper’s mind was filled with the stench and sight of bodies burning. Jake’s was still swirling with the thought of Antonio’s death. They soldiered on, trying to recapture the magic from earlier in the day. Neither wanted to be the first to admit defeat. So, the charade continued.

  A sharp rap on the front door interrupted them. Cooper glided to the second story window that overlooked their door, shotgun in hand. Dranko was looking right at him and waved. He knew Cooper’s security procedures. Cooper went downstairs, stretching his muscles out as he did so.

  Cooper opened the door and Dranko barreled past Cooper, bumping his shoulder as he rushed in.

  “We gotta do something. The news isn’t good,” he panted.

  “Slow down, what’s happening?”

  “I’ve spent the last hour catching up on the news, both broadcast and internet. It’s coming loose all over.”

  Cooper sat down on his couch, “Start from the top, please.”

  “The short version is that what happened here today was no fluke. Attacks are going on everywhere, too many for the news to keep track of. But they know there are a lot. Most end badly because they aren’t organized like we are.”

  “You mean everywhere, Portland? Or, everywhere, USA?”

  His eyes were grim, “Both. The worst part is some are random, like ours, and some are definitely with a purpose to steal or even take over.”

  “Take over?” Cooper’s eyebrows came together in surprise.

  “Yes, there have been reports of gangs moving into an area and taking it over, getting the residents to hand over money, supplies, or do work for them.”

  “What kind of work?”

  “All kinds. Using them to carry loot back from other raids. Medical people are pressed to treat injured gang members. There are at least two reports of them being used as human shields. Women are being put into sexual service. One group in Detroit is building a monument to their leader from wood and scrap metal. It’s crazy.”

  “Unbelievable,” Cooper sighed.

  “No, not unbelievable. Lots of people are making the call that it is ‘game over’ time. They see people dying all around them with no cure or remedy in sight. All levels of government seem to have broken down. When a vacuum this big gets created, strong men always step in to fill the gap. I told you it was a bad idea to try and stay here.”

  Cooper held up a finger, “Don’t go there.”

  Dranko retreated with a flurry of waving his hands back and forth, “Of course, forget I said it. But, the bottom line is its going to get worse, much worse. What happened today will happen again. It was no fluke.”

  “Did the news have any estimate of casualties?”

  Dranko’s face went slack, “Yeah, over tens of millions. Mostly from plague, but a goodly number from violence. So far.”

  Cooper shook his head in disbelief, “That’s almost five percent of America. Gone?”

  “Yeah. No end in sight either.”

  “One in twenty? More sick every day. No wonder the wheels are coming off.”

  Cooper leaned back into the couch, cocked his head to stare into space, and cradled his head in his hands. He let out a deep sigh and then remained in silence. Dranko counted the seconds, knowing his friend would soon have a response.

  Sure enough, a few moments later, Cooper returned to the upright position, his eyes alive again.

  “I know just what we should do.”

  “What’s that, brother?”

  “Get bigger,” Cooper said as a sly smile crept across his face.

  “Why don’t you fill us little people in on your grand master plan, Obi Wan Kanobi,” Dranko mocked.

  Cooper ignored the jibe. “We survey all the neighborhoods around us. We can find out if they are organized. If they are, we work out mutual assistance pacts. If they’re not, we try to help them become organized. It will be like…”

  “…our own gang,” Dranko finished for him. “But, we are still talking about untrained people fighting back against hardened gangbangers. I just don’t see how…”

  “People defending their own homes is a powerful thing. Don’t underestimate it. Every occupying power has learned it the hard way throughout history. So, too will anyone coming here,” Cooper’s jaw was firmly set as he talked. “Besides, we will find some ex-military who do have experience. We build the defenses around those people. Don’t forget, barricades will buy us time against the real gangs. They will go after easier pickings first. The random crazies, like today, won’t be as well trained or organized as you think.”

  “OK,” Dranko reluctantly agreed. “If nothing else, the wider reach out will give us more warning before our neighborhood is attacked.”

  “That’s why I love you Dranko, you’re the master of low expectations!”

  He fished a spent shell casing from his pocket and threw it playfully at Cooper, “I do my best!”

  “First thing tomorrow morning, we should send out survey teams to find out what’s happening around us.”

  “How many?”

  “Four teams, four people per team. The right number for security without appearing to be a threat.”

  “Consider it done. I’ll convene everyone involved with defense in the morning and send out the teams.”

  Cooper nodded in approval. Just then, his walkie-talkie buzzed alive.

  “Boss, you there? This is western post.”

  “Eagle’s nest here. What’s the report?”

  “You better get down here. We have refugees.”

  “Refugees?” Cooper gave a quizzical look at Dranko.

  “Yes, refugees. Can you get down here, please?”

  “Coming,” Cooper stuffed the walkie-talkie back into his pocket.

  “Can you stay with Jake while I go check this out?”

  “Yes, ring me up if you need anything.”

  Cooper grabbed his gear and donned his body armor as he left and began trotting towards the western barricade.

  As Cooper jogged, the late afternoon sun played wistfully among the leaves. Every so often, he would step into a gap between the trees and catch the full sun, becoming momentarily blinded. When lit up by the bright sun, the myriad shades of green in the leaves fascinated Cooper. It always had. He’d never known why.

  Today, it dawned on him. Now, as he made his way west, naked tears of emotion ran down his face. Life. They show life happening. And, they’re beautiful. Just like Elena.

  He stopped just out of view of the barricade and hastily wiped the tears away. He couldn’t afford to take the time to think about all of this. He pounded his fist against his chest, taking comfort in the body armor, and ran onward.

  He heard the problem before he could see it. Loud voices arguing. Plaintive voices begging to be let past the barricade. Other voices stern in refusal. The pleading turned angry, to no avail, and then back to begging once more.

  The normal three guard detachment had swollen to eight as reinforcements had come over. They formed a human wall to close the gap between two large pickup trucks that had been used to set up the checkpoint. Beyond them, a few dozen desperate looking people, most carrying a suitcase or bag of possessions, were taking turns shouting and begging to be let in. For a moment, Cooper thought he was watching news footage of refugees from World War Two, only in color. A woman held a crying child, an elderly couple stood clutching each other as if they’d fall if they let go, and a man in a pressed business suit looked like he was headed to work at a downtown bank. Most in the group were dirty, disheveled, and bewildered. They looked hungry and scared, too. Mark was arguing with the group.

  “Mr. Moretti, please report!” Cooper shouted over the din, seeking to establish ord
er.

  Mark’s head jerked around until he saw Cooper. Then, he smiled, disengaged from the group and quickly stepped towards Cooper.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Near as I can tell, this group was kicked out of their homes over on Division and 28th. They say a group arrived, in pickups and panel vans, and just kicked them all out, forcing them on foot and with no time to collect their things. They said they were looking for someone, but no one knows who or why. They’ve been walking along aimlessly since. They saw our armed guard post and they think we’re a safe place. They want in. I told them no. I wanted to wait until you got here.”

  Cooper scratched his chin for a moment and then strode over to address the group. He held his hand high until silence overtook the group.

  “Good afternoon! My name is Cooper Adams. I am very sorry for what has happened to you. We would…”

  “You gonna let us in or not?” A deep, rumbling voice shouted from the group. It belonged to a large man wearing a gray sweatshirt that barely covered his enormous pot belly. A few others joined him in catcalls of affirmation.

  Cooper stared at the man for a long moment. Silence regained control of the group. The man dropped his eyes. Finally, deliberately, Cooper turned back towards the group.

  “We will do two things for you. We are not the police, nor the government. So, we don’t owe you anything. So, we do these things from kindness, not from obligation. If there is a peep,” Cooper shot the man who had shouted a stern look, “from anyone, then the offer I am about to make will be withdrawn completely. Is that understood?”

  The group nodded and grunted reluctant affirmations.

  “We will interview each and every one of you. If we determine you will add a benefit to our community, you will be allowed in; at least temporarily. If we determine you will not, we will give you a small ration of food, taken from our own cupboards, and send you on your way. Any problems with this?”

  The reaction was immediate and diverse. A handful glared at him. The man in the gray sweatshirt spat at the ground in disgust, but a neighbor elbowed him in the stomach and he held his tongue. The majority stared blankly at him, without response. He noticed a significant number of eyes light up with a glimmer of hope. Some began to straighten the collars on their shirt or realign the hem of their coat. This group began nodding their heads and saying, “Yes.” Slowly, this response spread throughout the entire group. When the nods had reached consensus, Cooper turned to the guards gathered about him.

  He pointed at the two that looked to be the fastest, “Go house to house and gather portable food for two dozen people. Be back no later than thirty minutes.”

  A young woman dressed in a red Columbia jacket and neat black synthetic jogging pants and a young man wearing a red flannel coat with dark blue jeans ran off down the street. I must remember to put out some guidelines about the best clothing to wear to the guard stations. Red? He asked three of the guards to maintain the position and had Mark bring each refugee behind the barricade one person at a time for the interviews.

  Cooper leaned against a black Volkswagen Jetta that was parked just behind the barricade on the side of the street. He wished he had a chair to sit in, as he knew what he was about to do would be tedious and tiring.

  The first person that Mark brought back was in her twenties, blond, and undeniably attractive. Her red wool sweater was unbuttoned halfway down, revealing a black bra that cradled two full breasts. She sauntered over to Cooper, whisking her hips back and forth. She wore a tight fitting pair of ski pants and carried a red parka in her arms. Cooper glared at Mark, who smiled sheepishly back at him as if to say, “I couldn’t help it.”

  “Good afternoon, ma’am.”

  She deftly tilted her head and looked up at him with full eyes, “Good afternoon to you. But please call me Rachel.”

  “I just have a few questions for you. Please answer honestly as I don’t like BS and if we determine that you’ve lied to us later, you will be turned out of here…or worse. Understand?”

  Her coy smile disappeared for a second as the blunt force of his words hit her, but quickly returned, “Yes, sir.”

  “Rachel, do you have any experience with firearms?”

  “No,” a furrow of concern knitted her manicured eyebrows together.

  “Do you have any experience fixing things? Mechanical or carpentry, stuff like that?”

  “No, but…”

  Cooper wouldn’t let her continue, “Do you have any military experience or background?”

  “No,” her smile had disappeared and been replaced by a grim mouth and drooping eyes.

  “Do you have any medical experience?”

  Her eyes lit up and she blurted out, “Oh, yes. Considerable experience!”

  Cooper’s eyebrow cocked in surprise, “Great, where was this and what did you do?”

  “I worked with Dr. Sanders, one of Portland’s best cosmetic dentists. I worked the front desk in reception,” she said proudly.

  Cooper’s eyebrows deflated as he forced the smile from his face and tamped the laughter in his belly. “Great. Are there any other skills you can bring to our neighborhood?”

  Her instant transformation startled him. She took a step closer and leaned in so that she whispered softly in his ear, “I know how to keep a man happy.” He felt her hand squeeze his hip. “The right man would be very happy.” Her words dripped with lust. She tilted her head back just enough so that he had full view of her cleavage. He caught a whiff of her perfume, which was sweet and smelled of lavender.

  He took his right hand and firmly moved her back a step. “Thank you for your time, Rachel. You’re a number ‘one’, please remember that, OK?”

  She smiled and clapped her hands lightly together. “Thank you! You won’t regret this.”

  “I haven’t said you’re accepted, just that your number is One, OK?”

  She smiled at him knowingly, “Yeah, sure. I got it,” and winked at him.

  She walked back towards the rest of the group, looking back once to catch his eye and winking again. He waved uncomfortably at her. He couldn’t deny that she looked as good leaving as she had on the approach.

  He shook his head, “Next!”

  A nervous man claiming to be an auto mechanic was next. Cooper looked at his fingernails. Clean. Well-kept. Thin fingers. Cooper frowned, dismissed him quickly, and assigned him the number ‘three’.

  When Cooper looked back up after calling for the next person, another woman was walking towards him. She had an open, friendly face with her dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She wore baggy khaki-colored hiking pants, a brown long-sleeved shirt, and a bright blue jacket. He noticed she was also wearing sturdy hiking boots and she walked confidently in them. At least she dressed for the exodus.

  He learned that her name was Angela. Angela McIntosh. Cooper then repeated his opening mantra about telling the truth and then dove into the questions.

  “Do you have any experience with firearms?”

  “I was a good shot when I was a kid, but it’s been years since I’ve fired one.”

  “Where’d you learn?”

  “I grew up on a farm. My father didn’t have any boys, so it was my job to deal with the coyotes,” Angela answered, pronouncing it as “kay-otes.”

  “So, you could shoot some distance?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said nonchalantly.

  “What kind of farm did you grow up on?”

  “The drowning kind,” a sardonic grin crossed her face.

  Cooper cocked an eyebrow, “The drowning kind?”

  “Sure. Drowning in debt, drowning in water, or drowning in the foreign markets, that’s the fate of any family farm these days. Take your pick. On a good year, it was only one of the three,” she laughed heartily at her own joke. Her deep, solid, joyful laugh drew him in and he couldn’t resist chuckling with her.

  “Can you fix or repair things?”

  “I restored my 1903 house that I live in
myself, so I’m handy in a general sort of way,” her cavalier confidence oozed out.

  “Can you work on cars?”

  “No, not really.”

  “What about medical experience, do you have any?”

  “I’m an ER nurse. I’ve seen it all.”

  He didn’t doubt her for a second, “Can you work without your hospital equipment?” Cooper knew enough that modern medicine was heavily reliant upon technology, which they didn’t have.

  “Well, I’m also a trained Wilderness EMT, so I’m used to treating injuries and illness in the field without too much equipment. It’s mostly just common sense anyway.”

  Cooper nodded and didn’t try to conceal his satisfied look, “Had some training in that area, too. They never told us someday we might use those same skills in the middle of a city, did they?”

  “Back then, no one could imagine you’d be in the middle of a city and be without access to modern medical care,” her words were laced with lament.

  Cooper nodded, then looked back up at her, mustering a weak smile, “I’m giving you the number two, remember that number, alright?”

  “Sure. Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  Cooper laughed, “Sure.”

  “The ones you let in, are we coming in as equals or as something else?”

  Cooper tightened his eyes, taking offense to the question, “Equals. People coming in will contribute to our neighborhood, so they’ll be equals.”

  Angela noticed and waved her hand, “I didn’t mean to offend you, Cooper. But, you wouldn’t believe some of the ‘offers’ of help we’ve heard today. The world is turning around very, very quickly.”

  Cooper sighed, “I hear you. It is changing, but our job is to prevent it from changing too much and in the wrong direction.”

  As Angela walked away, he watched her in silent respect. This was someone who could handle herself. And, best of all, she knew it.

  “Next!”