Invasion: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Novel (Sympatico Syndrome Book 3) Read online

  Not knowing exactly what a machinist did, Hunter hadn’t connected the hammer comment with his profession. “That’s great—about the hammer thing and feeling better.” Hunter smiled. It felt good to have some positive news for a change. “Jenna’s a fantastic nurse.” He remembered how bad his dad’s gunshot wound had been and how Jenna had treated it. She’d said the wound wasn’t too serious, but Hunter knew better. There had been a lot of blood.

  “She’s awesome. I owe her a lot. I mean, even before the sickness, things were dangerous, but now? I thought for sure I was a goner. I had a cousin who got blood poisoning once and ended up losing a finger because he didn’t see a doctor soon enough. I could have lost my whole hand or worse.”

  “Glad it worked out,” Hunter tipped his chin up towards the house, “but I gotta get back with this stuff before I head out fishing.” He hefted the bolt a few inches and tucked it beneath his arm. Mike was friendly, but not over the top so. His behavior didn’t set off any warning bells.

  “Ice fishing?”

  Hunter glanced at the frozen bay. What other kind of fishing was there at this time of year? Before he could reply, Mike shook his head and chuckled. “Duh. Of course. I always ask stupid questions when I’m nervous.”

  “Nervous? About what?” He shifted the bolt to the other arm.

  Mike scratched his beard with his good hand and shrugged. “Just talking. I’ve never been much for chit-chat before. Give me a fishing pole, or a hunting rifle and point me towards the woods and I’m a happy camper—literally.”

  “Yeah.” Hunter understood where Mike was coming from. School had never been a good fit for him, although he got decent grades. His dad always told him he was smart, just not applying himself but Hunter had always felt as if he never quite fit in with the other smart kids. Grades didn’t mean a lot to him. He was good at sports but wasn’t especially competitive. He’d rather compete against himself, and that’s how he’d excelled in archery. It was just him, the bow, and the target. Hunter started to edge around Mike. “Well, it’s great that you’re feeling better.”

  Mike lifted his injured hand. “Oh yeah. Sorry to keep you. I…uh…I just wanted to ask someone if there was something I could do to help out. Just sitting in the cabin is driving me crazy.”

  Hunter glanced around as he tried to think of a response. What could Mike do to help? Joe shuffled from his cabin over to the main house, a little slower than his usual pace, but it was great to see him up and about. Jake was down in the goats’ pen feeding them a mix of food scraps. He had another bucket on the ground outside of the pen and Hunter guessed it contained more scraps for the chickens. Nothing was wasted anymore.

  Jake didn’t need help and Joe, while he was forced to be idle from more difficult work, was tending to the hides they had accumulated since they had begun hunting in the fall. He knew how to treat them and had been teaching Hunter and Jake about it. They planned to work on them later this afternoon, which as why Hunter had to hurry if he wanted to get some fishing in now. Maybe that was something Mike could do. “You want to come fishing with me?”

  Another fisherman was always welcome. It seemed they never had enough fish to put aside for later and if they really were leaving the island in the spring, having some set aside for the journey would be necessary.

  “I’d love to fish.” Mike lifted his bandaged hand. “I better get the okay from Ms. Jenna though.”

  “Oh yeah. Sure. And you should grab a mask if you have one. If not, ask Jenna. She has one she can give you.”

  As long as Mike wore his mask, fishing with him shouldn’t be a problem.

  Cole studied the atlas and laid a thin sheet of paper over the map, tracing several routes to Las Vegas. He didn’t want to mark up the only real roadmap he had. They might find another—probably could if they explored a library—but no sense in marking up the one he had right in front of him.

  When he had the roads traced and labeled, he went through and marked the names and locations of towns along the way. He wanted to know of any places that might hold danger and be ready for it. He rubbed his chin and then leaned his head on his hand, his elbow propped on the desk he’d found at the house with the cats. At the last minute he’d tossed it in the SUV when he and Hunter had left.

  It was one of the few items in the house that hadn’t reeked of cat urine since it had been sitting in a room that had been closed off to the cats. While the living room was crowded already, he justified the desk because he needed a workspace where he didn’t have to evacuate it several times a day in order for someone to cook.

  Already he had a stack of books piled on the floor beneath the desk, with several he’d most recently consulted sitting at his elbow. Even with such a high stack, it was a drop in the bucket compared to what they needed. They were sorely lacking in information on how to perform tasks that hadn’t been common for a hundred years. They had been lucky to get houses with septic tanks for sewage and the windmill running. Was leaving the island the right thing to do?

  What if they left and made it to Las Vegas only to find the dam completely shut down? The weather there was arguably more brutal than a Wisconsin winter. Without irrigation, crops were unlikely to grow and no power meant no air conditioning. It wasn’t a complete necessity, but it would make life a lot more bearable. At least here they would have the summer to plant and gather more food.

  Cole tossed the pencil down and raked both hands through his hair, resting his head against his palms for a moment. Was having electricity really that important? Sure, it made life easier, but mankind had lived and thrived for most of history without it. Was it worth taking the risk of crossing the country just for the chance to have it?

  Communication would still be compromised because telephone companies took a lot more than one person to run and he was pretty certain they weren’t self-contained to one city. Perhaps they could get it up and running if they found someone with experience. And that was the root of the problem. Everything was still here. The factories, the utility companies, and the healthcare facilities—there just weren’t enough people alive to keep any of it running.

  Perhaps if instead of going to Las Vegas, they simply went south? That would solve the winter problem and if they salvaged solar panels along the way or once there, they could generate enough electricity for their own needs.

  As their group expanded, which he expected it to do—hoped it would, as long as newcomers were healthy—they could always add more panels. But what about when the panels ran out? Could they manufacture more? He was pretty certain most of the materials were sourced from various locations hundreds if not thousands of miles apart. Hell, some probably shipped from overseas. Back before the virus, sourcing material was just a matter of calling up a company, searching on Google, and placing an order. It then arrived at a loading dock as if by magic.

  Manufacturing needed more than a handful of workers too. What if they got there, the electricity still worked, but all they had were lights and air conditioning? Both were important, but how important?

  Freezers and refrigeration would be huge for keeping food from spoiling. Jenna would be able to use some of the equipment at the hospital. Computers would work even if the Internet wasn’t around. Cole itched to send an email to someone. Instant communication was something he missed almost more than all of the other aspects of modern living.

  They had been able to deal with food and shelter, for the most part, but he’d never realized how dependent he’d been on being able to send off an email, text, or call someone at any time. He doubted many of his friends and former colleagues had survived the pandemic so there was nobody to communicate with, but he’d love to be able to establish communication with other survivors. They needed to prioritize getting hand held radios. There should be plenty of them around, but it wasn’t something he’d thought of when they’d left in such a hurry.

  Cole flipped the page on his notebook and wrote: TRADE across the top. He wanted to revisit the problem after h
e’d decided how to handle the current problem.

  Flipping back to the original page, he wrote everyone’s name down and their skill set. Jenna knew how to can fruits and vegetables, was their main medical resource with he and Elly the backup. Both Sean’s and Joe’s knowledge of building went beyond electrical components as they both were naturally good at working with their hands. Elly had some prepping skills. Joe also knew a lot about the local flora and fauna. He knew where the black walnut, hickory trees and oak trees groves were in their area and whenever they had gone out to hunt and foraging in the fall, they had brought home bags of the nuts. Some had been destroyed in the fire, but they had gathered a bit more before the heavy snows had set in. Joe had shown Piper how to leach the bitterness from the acorns and make flour. Cole was actually starting to prefer the rich, nutty flavor of the bread Piper had made with the acorn flour.

  Cole glanced across the room to the bookshelf stuffed with a combination of what they had brought with them, books already at the house when they arrived, and some taken from homes they had entered. They still needed to visit a local library and gather as many books as they could about everything. They may have been plunged into the dark ages, but they weren’t destined to remain there if they preserved the knowledge already accumulated.

  He finished his list of skills for everyone and noted his own skills were lacking. Only Zoe and Luke had fewer. With a shake of his head, he set the paper aside.

  As he jotted down the towns, rivers, and other landmarks along the various routes west, his mind wandered to how much they needed to survive.

  Canned and packaged goods would only last the kitchen table was needed for cooking. Thinking of cooking, he wondered if the venison roast would be well-received. He’d seasoned it, doused it with a little olive oil and had let it marinate all morning. With some luck, they’d find some more olive oil but eventually, it would all be gone. Cole sighed. Hacking the roast off the frozen carcass hadn’t been easy, and lately they had been using meat more as a side dish, but tonight, he wanted to celebrate.

  He had a feeling that survivors would start to emerge from wherever they had hidden once a year had gone by. The virus should have run its course. Once the vectors were gone, the virus would have nowhere else to go. They didn’t seem to affect other species—not like the avian flu or the swine flu. That was a plus because it meant there was no reservoir for the virus to hide. If everyone who contracted it had died, and there were no new cases, chances were, the virus would die. If only he could be certain. Cole thought of his years in epidemiology and the reliance he’d had on studies. He didn’t have the luxury of others gathering data from across the globe and sending it to him. He could only speculate based on what he knew and observed personally.

  A knock sounded at the door just before Elly stuck her head in. “What are you doing?”

  “Just working out a map to Las Vegas.” He sat back, tossing the pencil onto the desk.

  Elly crossed the room and stood behind him, leaning over to peer at the map. He tilted his head back to watch her reaction as she studied it.

  “Hmmm…that would normally be a two-day drive or so, depending on if you stopped at a motel for the night. How long do you think it would take now?”

  Cole rubbed the back of his neck as he calculated. “A week? But that’s just a ballpark guess based on what I’ve seen on the roads around here and what Hunter saw on his trip to the island last summer. He said most main highways were choked with vehicles when the drivers and occupants died.”

  “But that was months ago, Cole. Do you think the roads are still that bad?”

  “You saw Chicago, and Hunter and I have seen some of the main highways around here. They were bad, and there hasn’t been anyone around to clear things.”

  He felt the slight movement of her abdomen against his back as she sighed. “Do you think it’s possible that a lot of people are just hiding out like us? And that we’ll be able to return to some kind of semblance of what we used to have?”

  “Not here. What we need is electricity to power things and we just don’t have the capacity to do that here.”

  “What about solar panels? Couldn’t we install some? And then there’s the windmill…” Her hands rested on his shoulders, lightly kneading and he closed his eyes as he answered, “Solar is great and no doubt we could use it small scale here. That’s actually an alternative plan I was formulating.”

  Cole was loathe to sit forward and break contact with Elly’s warm fingers and risk interrupting the massage, but her hands followed when he shifted. He rifled through some papers until he found the ones he wanted, tilting them to make it easier for Elly to see the diagrams he’d drawn of the house and the cabins on the island. “If we get some panels and install them on the cabin roofs this summer, along with a separate bank, we could probably get enough power to run the lights, the water pumps, the refrigerator, and especially, the freezers. We’re lucky my uncle planned the resort on the southwest end of the island because even in the winter, we get a lot of sun here.”

  He set the papers down and tapped the rough diagram of solar panels with his finger. “If we could get those working, we would be able to store a lot more food for the winter.” They were learning the skills for preserving food and he wanted to keep doing that, but salting and drying were work-intensive and time-consuming.

  “Are you sure we need to leave? Why not just move to the mainland in the spring? We should be able to find a good farm to work.” Elly moved from behind him, facing him as she leaned back against the right side of the desk.

  It was a good question. He looked at his papers as he formulated a reply and finally, drew a deep breath. “Winter, for one. This one was pretty average for this area.” Her eyebrows raised and he knew that being from the South, she had considered the weather they’d been enduring as especially harsh. It wasn’t. It was a typical Wisconsin winter. “But the big reason is I’d like to find other people.”

  “But—”

  “I know—there’s danger from the virus.” Cole cut in. “But I think it’s worth the risk.”

  “What makes it worth it? Things here aren’t so bad, and if we add the panels like you have right there,” she waved to his plans, “then why the need to leave?” Elly crossed her arms as her lips set in a thin line.

  He reached for the hand that was tucked beneath her arms, grasping her fingers as she lowered her arms. “I’m sorry I cut you off. I’ve been meaning to discuss that with you and ask you your opinion on when you think the virus has run its course—but eventually we have to venture off this island. Solar panels only work as long as the sun is shining, and in the winter, days are short and half the time, it’s overcast. We would need to install some batteries for storage, and I don’t think they’re available just anywhere—not that I won’t look.”

  Elly pursed her lips, apparently not quite convinced. He didn’t blame her. In some ways, it was less scary to face dangers you knew, even if they were difficult, than something that might be easier, but unknown. “The longer we wait to find out what is still left out there, the harder it’ll be to get stuff back up and running. ”

  “I think we’d be just as well off staying here.”

  Cole drew a deep breath. He didn’t want to argue; not with Elly and not about this. It was true they could continue to exist here, but thrive? No. Not in this environment. “I don’t agree.”

  They locked eyes and Elly was the first to break contact, waving a hand nearly in his face. “It’s my turn for laundry. Is yours ready to go?”

  Chapter Six

  Hunter gripped the top of the hand auger with one hand and turned the blade using the other hand to grip. It took only a few moments to drill through the ice. It wasn’t quite as thick as it had been but at four inches or so, still should be thick enough to fish on. Thinning ice meant spring really was on the way and he couldn’t wait. While they had all been busy all winter, they had still all been cooped up mostly in the main house. Joe’s cabin w
as okay too, and he and Sophie had returned to it once Sophie had recovered from her bad flu, but to save fuel, they usually went back to the main house to work on any projects.

  He had two tip-up poles to set across the two other holes he’d drilled already, and one jigging rod. If he had just been fishing for fun, he’d have stuck with one or maybe two poles, but fishing to feed people meant he used three at a time. With no other competition, the fishing was usually pretty good. Mostly he’d caught walleye and perch but occasionally he got a nice lake trout. On a good day, he might catch more than a dozen fish. It wasn’t much compared to what Elly and Jake brought in when they’d used the boat and nets, but it was enough to keep the group from going hungry some days.

  He lifted the auger from the neat hole he’d created and handed it over to Mike. The other man had his own fishing gear from their vehicle, but all he had was one jigging rod.

  “When I went on the fishing trip last spring, ice fishing was the furthest thing from my mind,” Mike said, as he created his hole. “I only had this in the back from a trip I took last February. It was a fun trip and we caught a few fish, but mostly we sat around is my buddy’s ice hut listening to music.”

  Hunter had made a hut early in the winter and was pretty proud of it, but the sun was warm today. Relatively, and he’d decided to try some different spots to fish.

  Joe had brought his hut from his house so they had two on the ice about twenty feet apart, but he didn’t think he’d need to use it as there was very little wind and the temperature was near freezing. He baited a few lines and dropped them in the two holes he’d made. Mike had gathered his own fishing gear from their vehicle and it wasn’t long before they each sat on large coolers that did triple duty as fish storage and transport across the ice, and seating. Hunter had retrieved them from the ice hut after he’d drilled the fishing holes.

  “So, have you guys been here since the beginning of the epidemic?” Mike sat facing Hunter. He only had one line down, but with one hand out of commission, Hunter marveled that he’d managed to drill the hole and bait the hook once.