I switched the radio off. What the hell was going on? Was the Enillo Virus as bad as all that? I began to worry about Ellie. She worked at a hospital in the city and would have to go to work tomorrow. If viruses hit the US, she’d be right in the crosshairs.
Lost in my reverie, I nearly missed the exit. A truck was pulled over to the side of the road and it blocked my view of the sign nearly before it was too late. The driver was sitting behind the wheel, but as I flashed past, he raised a hand to the window. I waved back and zipped down the exit.
At my next stop, I decided to buy ammo directly, and to hell with the cost. I grabbed up all of the hunting ammo they had for the 30 carbine and the target stuff too. I left two boxes on the shelf, figuring to be kind if anyone came after me looking for it. I noticed the shelves were empty of .223 ammo and 5.54x39 ammo.
The clerk’s eyes didn’t even flicker when I brought the ammo to him. “Will that be all?” he asked, reaching for my credit card.
I tried to make small talk. “Selling a lot of ammo these days?”
He smiled. “Quite a bit. Must be a competition or something coming up.”
“Could be,” I said. “Could you double bag that, I’d hate to have it spill all over the parking lot.
“Sure.”
I thanked him and took the ammo to my trunk. As I backed out of my spot, I noticed an older employee come to the door with a sign that read, “Cash only for sales, please.” I thanked God for my timely purchase and headed back to the road. One more stop and I would head home. I turned the radio back on.
“…reports are coming in from Africa that infected people are reportedly falling into deep comas, then reviving and getting up. They are allegedly attacking anyone around them, except for other victims. We have heard reports of horrific violence, and the entire continent seems to be on the verge of collapse. For exclusive videos and uploads, please visit our website for the latest information.”
I turned the radio off as I sped down the back roads to the last gun shop I wanted to visit. I felt an almost overwhelming urge to get back home as quickly as possible. Every warning bell I had, was clanging as loudly as possible that if I did not take this seriously, there would be no second chance.
I stopped at the gun shop, which happened to be on my route home. It was more crowded than the others were, and several people were trying to buy more guns than they had money for. One guy, who came in to sell his gun, received four offers from other customers. I watched as two men nearly got into a fight over an AR that one wanted to see, and others wanted to buy, right then. Everything was selling, from .22 pistols to big 7mm Magnum rifles. Ammo was flying off the shelves, and I was relieved when I saw that no one had picked up the 30 Carbine ammo yet. Pays to have an unusual caliber gun, I thought.
I signaled the man behind the counter who was waiting for a customer to make up his mind on shotguns.
“Can I help you?” He asked. I noticed he was wearing a .45 on his hip. Prudent, I thought.
“I need to get some .30 carbine ammo,” I said.
“Right. You want it by the box, or case?” He asked, reaching behind him.
I was surprised. “You have cases?”
“Sure thing. Cheaper to buy a case than to sell it piecemeal, but we just got an order in yesterday, so if you want a whole case, I’ll sell it to you discounted. Bigger discount if you pay cash.”
“Deal,” I said, reaching for my checkbook. I kept emergency money there and something told me this was definitely an emergency.
“Let me go get it.” He walked off to a back room that had a large padlock on it. As the door opened, I could see stacks of varied ammo in a wide range of calibers. Bet a lot of people would like to see that room, I thought.
As I finally headed home, I thought about what I had seen and heard. I thought about what I had in the trunk and hoped to God that I was wrong. If I was, I was going to have a hell of a shooting day at the range, the next time I got out. If not, well, I did what I could to protect my family. I just wish I had a clue as to what I was protecting against. If the virus was airborne, I could do little. If it was spread by contact, that was something else.
A raindrop hit my windshield and I looked at the darkening sky. Storm. Great. Maybe I’ll get home before it hits. With any luck, it’ll all blow over.
3
“…in related news, the Enillo Virus has claimed millions of lives worldwide, and scattered reports of victims returning from the comatose state and attacking their caregivers are on the rise. In Africa, a veritable army of infected people is slowly marching their way across the continent, ravaging every village and city they come across. Their numbers seem to swell from each attack, and nations across the globe are scrambling to counter what many have called the worst crisis mankind has ever faced. Infected individuals seemed to be impervious to pain, or even what some might consider, debilitating injuries. New reports coming in from New York and Chicago and Los Angeles, indicate a heavy population of infected individuals. Official reports are debunking the somewhat popular notion that the dead have come back to life. YouTube videos abound on the Internet and officials warn self-styled “Zombie Hunters” that they will be prosecuted within the fullest extent of the law. Anyone caught looting will also be prosecuted. Individuals are urged to stay in their homes and avoid all contact with infected individuals. They are to be considered extremely dangerous. If a loved one or family member exhibits any symptoms of the virus, they are to be isolated immediately, and the family is to place a white cloth on their mailboxes to alert emergency personnel to the presence of another victim.”
I switched off the television and looked out my front window. I could see three houses with white towels on their mailboxes, and I wondered how many more, will there be? Will there come a time when all the houses have white flags on them? If your house doesn’t have a white flag, will the officials think you’re immune and want to take you away for testing? Who knew?
The last week was a blur. I went to work and tried to keep things as normal as I could, but the kids were scared. Some were talking about how their mom, dad, or sister was sick, and they didn’t know what to do. Many of my students were absent, their parents taking them to relatives in Mexico or to other states, trying to get away from the large population center of Chicago. I worried about my brother, who lived downtown with his family, but I spoke with him the other day and he seemed fine. I called my parents in Virginia, but was only able to leave a message. Their house was fairly isolated, and my father was an ex-marine, so I figured they would be all right.
Two days ago, the governor of the state called for a suspension of attendance of public schools, the thought being that if a student were infected, he could easily spread it to many families due to the close nature of classrooms. For once, the governor actually had a decent idea. So, for the last two days I have been busy reloading ammunition, cleaning my guns, and stocking up on foodstuffs. Pickings were getting a little slim at the grocery store, as people began to see the wisdom of hunkering down and waiting out the storm.
I was very grateful Ellie had managed to get to the store before the real storm of public awareness hit, and I managed to make a few runs myself. I had gone to the bank and withdrawn as much as I could; figuring to replace it should the worst pass. I didn’t want to be caught up short without cash, and yesterday they announced on the news that credit cards are going to be suspended, to try to prevent people from going overboard and end up losing everything when the crisis passed. I bought everything I could think of, and my basement was pretty well stocked. I was going to feel like a class A fool if this thing blew over quickly, but the little voice in the back of my head said we were in for a rough ride.