Please, find them, she said. And Malcolm was again, barraged with feelings of guilt. Not only did he leave her in that field, he took the route to Denver, his hometown, instead of Albuquerque.
His thought process was to find his family first. Perhaps if any of them were alive, he could get answers. If not, he would go to Amy’s home next. He wasn’t even sure where that was.
But going there first was not an option. Malcolm often placed everything before his family. Especially work and leaving for trips. But this time, he was making them his top priority.
Even if he never saw them again, for once and possibly the last time, they would come first.
NORA’S ENTRY
Day Two AR
Unintentionally bragging that we had the shorter journey inadvertently caused a chain reaction of bad Karma to come our way. Suddenly our route was no longer short. There was no way around Nashville. There was no end of the fence in sight and even if we could break through the overgrown wilderness, I was not quite so sure I wanted to see what happened to that city.
It was ground zero.
We learned that the virus was released in air ducts in planes.
The percentage of planes being affected depended on the population of each country.
I’m left to wonder how this happened.
If this was a government plan or some scientific group plan to decrease population, then why did the government step in and set up such an extensive quarantine area to stop the virus is spreading?
I suppose these were just questions on my mind, ones that I hope got answered
After backtracking a good distance, we found a road that veered far west, and could take it around into Kentucky.
Just as the buggy puttered out and it’s last little bit of energy we pulled off to the side of the road. We set up a nice camp in the open, but protected by nature’s foliage.
Jason’s mood got better. Almost as if seeing Nashville changed him. To him he received answers. They tried to stop the virus. He held a lot of hope.
I only pray that he’s not headed into a cascading world of disappointment and hurt.
He spoke a lot to me on the way to find a camping spot. And then he spoke about his wife Melissa for the first time. The woman he talked about seemed like a wonderful person, understanding, and a sweet beautiful perfect wife.
I was far from the perfect wife. I didn’t cook, I cleaned when I felt inspired or if we were having company. Just wasn’t my thing. But I was, however, a very good mother. My heart aches for my children. I miss them so much. I hope above all things that I can see them one more time. But there is this tiny spot inside my chest saying don’t count on it.
I started for the first time, feeling tired, I hadn’t felt tired in days. Although, I have been sleeping for years, at least I think.
I likened myself to Sigourney Weaver in the movie Alien. Waking up after a long time in stasis. Waking to a new world. Everyone I knew and loved, gone.
I hope I’m wrong. I did, however, learn something new.
Those protein bars weren’t actually protein bars. Those nifty foil packs that were sealed airtight. The ones that contained the square that looked like nothing more than the bark of a tree. They were actually meals. I guess I was flashing back to my days in the service. I was still baffled on how that was not something I recalled right away. Especially after seeing the foil wrapped food. I assumed what there was in the packs was what we ate.
Nothing fancy.
Nothing hidden, once I learned that, and read the package, I submerged it in a glass of water. The unappealing substance went from the brown rock to a gravy and vegetable stew. Not only did they taste better, they were much more filling.
I kind of thought they were tasty before. In fact, everything in those tightly air sealed packs were ‘submerge and go’ food. We stuck the contents in the water and suddenly they grew.
Sort of like the toys I used to buy the girls, little tiny figures you would stick in a glass of water and suddenly they were big. The water made them expand.
The warm food was a welcome relief. It helped at night. The temperature dropped drastically. That was to be expected. Even though I had grabbed the camping gear, I didn’t pull out the sleeping bag. More than likely it was my not wanting to roll it back up. Instead I opted for the thermal gear. The space age blanket, as thin as it was, did a nice job keeping me warm. For some reason I have a lot of apprehension about lighting a fire. We don’t know what’s out there. Even though we haven’t seen anyone, it doesn’t mean it’s safe. The light would travel for miles and only invite trouble. The small pen flashlight worked enough for me.
At night there isn’t much to do but, write in the journal and hope that the battery charges enough to keep us moving. The buggies were amazing vehicles. A few hours after the sun rises, we will be ready to roll.
I am filled with anxiety over the uncertainty.
Tomorrow is another day. Another day traveling, another day of wishing for a bright outcome.
TWENTY-FIVE – Trekking
John thought he was the first one awake. Then he saw he wasn’t. Grant was awake. He was staring out, sitting with knees bent, arms crossed over them. Just staring at nothing saying nothing. Meredith was still asleep. Out like a light. John supposed she had worked all evening and it showed. Using her backpack as a pillow while wound tightly in her sleeping roll, papers sprawled out everywhere around her head, held down by rocks to keep them from flapping and flying in the wind.
No matter how wrong, and inappropriately timed it was, John sort of found her adorable. Of course, John was womanizer. Meredith was the type of woman that he would have an affair with. Not a one night stand. Those were for floozies and young girls. For a long-term commitment outside his marriage, it was an intelligent woman he needed.
John was a piece of shit in his marriage. He wasn’t always that bad. In fact at one point in time he was a dutiful and wonderful husband. That was back in their humbling days of living in a trailer, while he taught first grade at the local Catholic school. His wife worked two jobs to make ends meet at times while carrying a child. Then John decided to write a novel and then another. His wife was supportive in his endeavors even with how much of an ass he turned into once he achieved success.
Along with the book tours, came the affairs, one right after another. John wasn’t a bad looking guy. Better looking in his youth that he was in his seasoned years. But he was a charmer with a perfect smile and a still handsome face.
His wife forgave him time after time. John supposed was because she knew she was going to get a ton of money if they ever divorced, or maybe she had it in her mind to kill him and make even more money.
It wasn’t that John didn’t love his wife. He did. Actually he adored her. She was a wonderful person. But as time grew the conversations were boring and she let herself go a little, and at times, intellectually stifled him.
As Nora told him upon their first meeting, he was a dick. John wouldn’t argue. His wife deserved much better than him. She deserved to be happy. John did nothing but give her misery.
Using the Coleman stove, John made some coffee. He’d let it percolate and when it was finished he would wake up Meredith. After she got her wits about her with a few ounces of caffeine then he’d question what she learned in her paperwork. After that, it was time to move on. With any luck they would be in Washington DC or on the outskirts by the end of the day