Chapter 3
So Long, Mom (A Song for World War III)
Summary: Tori alone.
Note: This is undoubtedly the darkest chapter of the story.
It was mid-morning Wednesday when I woke on the couch. I had no idea where I was before I realized it was the couch in the living room. Then I had to remember why I was there.
Suddenly I remembered Dad being home last night. Warmth overwhelmed me. Then I remembered details...
I felt a sense of panic, but I choked that down and forced myself to check on my family.
Trina was comatose and burning with fever. I felt I'd lose my sister soon.
But Mom was gone.
My mother was dead!
I couldn't do anything to help her. And I slept through it! If she had called out to me, I was asleep!
I wasn't there!
I have never felt so low, so worthless, in my life. It felt like my heart had literally been pulled from my chest. I fell to my knees alongside her bed, holding her cooling hand tightly in both of mine as I sobbed out my grief. My forehead was pressed to her lower arm as my tears fell onto her stiffening wrist.
I don't know how long I knelt there, my heart shredding in my chest. Even now, I can still feel a hole in me that Mom had once filled...
Finally, I did what I knew needed to be done.
I got up, crossed her arms across her chest like tradition then I went to the garage and grabbed a shovel. With that I went out to the backyard and began to dig behind Mom's large yucca plant, near her vegetable garden, above the shallow slope by the back fence. I dug out about six feet by three feet but only got down about four feet before I hit hardpan or bedrock or...whatever. I lay back on the grass under the nearby tree and rested. I had never done so much manual labor before. Especially not under that emotional thundercloud.
Something in the back of my head said it wouldn't be the last time I'd dig a grave.
I was really getting tired of 'somethings' telling me things. Humor intended – if poorly related. Now. I didn't find any humor then.
Back in the house, I bundled Mom in the top sheet from their master bed and dragged her outside – I tried to carry her but I couldn't. Mom wasn't a large woman, but I wasn't that strong either. And, at least emotionally, I was nearly totally drained. Not surprising, I suppose, given the circumstances.
I stood for a long time looking at her before I kissed her cold forehead, covered her face again with a flap of the sheet and lowered her into the ground.
I suddenly remembered that old mini-series I saw on TNT and later on Syfy - the TV adaption of Stephen King's The Stand - the superflu story I mentioned earlier. Molly Ringwald had to bury her father after the superflu killed him. Being an actress wannabe, I had thought I knew how the character felt but I was so very, very wrong.
My God, it was infinitely worse!
Even after all this time, I still feel the pain of losing her. And I always will. I love you, Mom. And I will always feel like I failed you. I'm so sorry…
Once I had the dirt back in the hole - covering my mother, God help me – I forced up blocks of paving stones from our patio to cover her resting place so predators wouldn't get to her. Dig her up and...
Never mind.
By this time, late afternoon, I just had to speak to someone. I went inside and called Andre's cell. It went to voice mail and I left a brief message for him to call me. Then I tried Beck with the same result. And the same with Robbie. I was feeling more and more alone. Until...
Cat answered! She said she was feeling better and was taking Sam back to Seattle. "I have Nona's car. She's… She…"
"It's okay, Cat. I know… I..." I murmured, suddenly not willing to share my grief. Not with my light-hearted Cat. "I understand. I'm sure she's happy you're using it."
"Me too," she replied in a firm voice, but an octave lower than her normal, bright tone.
When I asked why she was heading north, Cat said, "Sam said something about seeing her mother again then about having to be there to do an iCarly webcast. She's kinda feverly, you know."
From that description, I knew that Sam was still sick but Cat again told me she was feeling a lot better which was good news. That meant Dad was right, not everyone died from this damned disease.
My friend said she might then try to find her family in Idaho. She was already almost to San Francisco.
"Cat, whatever you do, avoid the cities if you can. Go around them. And be careful please. Things are going to be very bad."
Again, sounding strangely un-Cat-like, she said, "I know Tori. I saw how bad it was when I stopped for gas in Carmel. Are you still okay?"
We talked for a while until just before she said she was going to pull over. ("I have to pee!" to which I laughed. Gratefully.) She asked me to check on Jade.
"Cat, I tried but she's not answering."
"I talked to her yesterday and she sounded okay. Can you go over there?"
"I don't know where she lives," I told her. "I only have her number because she mistakenly didn't hide it when she prank-called me last October. But she doesn't answer."
"Oh, she changed that when she knew you had it… She's funny like that."
She gave me the address – it was stupidly close by - and made me promise to check on Jade.
"Okay. I will Cat. And I'll call you after. I love you, Kitty-cat."
"I love you too Tori. Please, be careful. If Jade is okay, take care of her and let her take care of you. You two are my best friends in the whole world. I gotta go, Tori. I really gotta pee!"
I laughed again despite the emotional pain I was feeling.
Then I realized I didn't get Jade's new number. I tried calling Cat again, but I got a circuits busy recording. I tried not to worry, figuring areas between cities may be overwhelmed by calls. At least I hoped… Also, driving along the coast, between L.A., Carmel and the Bay Area, she might even be in a region with sporadic or no cell service even before the outbreak. Screw whatever Verizon, AT&T or any of the major telecom suppliers claimed, some areas still had crappy coverage.
Finally, after a really long afternoon -the longest in my life, I went upstairs to check on Trina. Her fever seemed to have broken. I don't recall Mom's fever breaking so I took it as a good sign. Maybe my sister inherited whatever was keeping Dad and I from catching this germ. Changing the cold packs, I got her fresh water and another bowl of soup. But I let her sleep even as I wanted to talk to her.
Downstairs, I switched on the TV. It was early evening so the ABC Network News was on. There were additional reports on revolutions throughout Latin America. This was followed by unofficial reports that China had fallen back into a morass of regional warlords fighting for control of their provinces. The worry, for the moment, was control of the nuclear stockpile the Chinese had amassed.
As if to cement that fear, unconfirmed reports stated that a nuclear exchange had been reported between Pakistan and India. No confirmation though as no news was coming from Malaysia, Viet Nam or the rest of Southeast Asia. The Philippines and Taiwan were still in communication and reported no sign of fall out or other radiological effects. Nor were there any reports of increased radiation levels in the western provinces of Australia - as yet.
But the Fever was definitely there now too. It wasn't everywhere yet. Samoa and Fiji also had no signs of the plague. I knew other isolated areas were probably plague-free too.
Well, at least for the time being.
I thought about ships at sea - cruise liners, oil tankers, cargo haulers, Navy ships and especially submarines. They'd most likely be plague-free too, if they set sail before last week, and especially if they sailed earlier. Then I realized, as soon as any landed in a populated – or formally populated - region, anyone on board would likely become infected.
The CDC announced that the virus has a 24 to 48-hour gestation period after exposure before symptoms manifested. About the only concrete information they had. But that confirmation was a relief. I still wasn't sick. By now, I was pretty sure I wouldn't get sick. Then again, that was actually small consolation given the probable future. Just as Dad had predicted.
I remembered an old Chinese curse about living in interesting times…
Due to low-lying clouds, it was already darker than normal for the time of day. Suited how I felt to a tee.
A few minutes into the local newscast, the focus changed to cover regional reports of course. Reports, with almost no live remotes, covered overcrowding at all area hospitals and medical centers. It was even worse than when I tried the day before. The airports were shut down and the harbors and marinas were closed to the public. Panic-stricken people were still trying to leave, crowding the smaller, regional airports and the areas around the marinas, paying huge sums for yachts and sloops to escape before the TSA (Ha!), the Coast Guard or the Navy stepped in.
Also, the news anchors were talking about an expanded list of communal sites for the disposal of the dead.
Just then there was a loud bang from outside and the house shook a bit. I ran out the front door and looked around. Down the hill, near the intersection at the end of the block, the Douglas house was in flames. I started to run to see if I could help but stopped when I saw someone else with a rifle silhouetted by the flames as they walked towards the pyre.
I ducked back into the house and made sure the front door was securely locked. Then checked the other first floor doors and windows as well.
Eventually, I heard some sirens but not nearly as intense as you'd expect for a house fire that large and that close. I wanted to see if the fire was mentioned on the news. It wasn't.
The news had given way to reruns, on every channel. I left that on as background noise even as my mind raced.
I reheated some of last week's family chicken pot pie from the fridge. As it warmed in the oven (microwaves didn't treat leftover family pot pie well), I checked on Trina. Her fever seemed to be even lower and she was sleeping more peacefully, thank God. She even drank some of her water and some of the soup.
With idiotic sitcoms on in the background, I ate my family pie, even though I had little appetite. I knew I needed to keep up my strength. For a few of hours, I watched TV without seeing anything on the air.
Several of the movie channels, of course including the pay-for channels like HBO, were running movies, Dingo had old teen sitcoms and Nick was running the irritating cartoon Sponge Bob Squarepants non-stop - as usual even before this started. But several others were off the air. I went back to KABC.
The prime-time local news cut in with reports of sporadic fires around the Southland. These were the closest I came to hearing about the Douglas house. Many, and I guess this included the Douglas fire, were caused by natural gas build up. They warned people to make sure pilot lights were lit or to turn off the gas completely.
As if to punctuate that report, I heard another loud bang. This was further away, over the Hills towards the Valley.
A few hours of reruns and old movies, none I paid attention to - I couldn't even tell you what I saw – it was noise and visuals to fill the void in my house. Then I went back to the news.
The late news finally came on. A newscaster, now solo – who, incidentally, I recognized as the weekend weather forecaster - started by reading a statement from the mayor's office. Schools, restaurants, theaters, libraries, museums, malls and other public places were officially closed in an attempt to slow the spread of the disease. I muttered, "Too little, too late."
Then another report about the ports and airports being closed. And more details about communal disposal sites. It was so…indifferent. Even on this scale, these were people who mattered to someone.
But, once I recalled Dad's description of the probable scale of the devastation, I kinda saw how and why this was treated so matter-of-factly. Like in a movie where a dog dies – everyone freaks out. But kill millions in a disaster movie and you just sell more popcorn – as long as the dog lives.
Anyway, the anchor reported the President had succumbed to the Fever and died just an hour before. The Vice President, now President, would address the country in less than a half hour.
As the report changed to ongoing riots in Crenshaw and Watts, I walked past the piano to look out the back window, seeing the lights of Los Angeles but also dark clouds of smoke that regularly blocked portions of the city lights beyond. All from scattered fires in the city below the slope of the Hills.
After the grueling afternoon, and poor sleep the past nights, I was exhausted. But I felt I needed to watch more.
Then the Vice President...the President of the United States came on. I always kinda liked the vice president. He seemed like a guy you'd meet in your neighborhood store rather than some stuffy politician. A working man with kids and grandkids...
Now, he looked disheveled. His silver hair was combed back but not as neat as usual and his eyes were puffy while he was starting to sweat as he gave a prepared statement. He often dabbed his face with a handkerchief. He occasionally broke into Jersey-speak from time to time.
The speech was short and was mainly a eulogy to his late boss. But I suppose it could be applied to the nation as well, now that I'm looking back. Hell, even the world.
The grief over Mom mixed with the general stress was building up in me again, exhausting me further. I argued with myself that it was after 11 so… I decided to go to bed. I slept for nearly ten, thankfully dreamless hours.
When I got up, it was Thursday, around 9 o'clock. I found that Trina was conscious but weak. I was heartened by her recovery and got her some cream of wheat. I couldn't tell her about Mom yet and, fortunately, she didn't ask. "Thanks Tori. You're a good sister."
I laughed for the first time since I talked to Cat, "Okay, who are you and what did you do to my sister?"
Trina laughed in response but it sounded weak and more like a hacking cough.
"Listen, I have to go out for a bit. You gonna be okay?"
"Sure. Nothing can take down Trina Vega!" As I walked out of her room, she called, weakly, after me, "If you go by the mall, I could use some of that fragrance Gaga is selling!"
Smiling, I took Mariska, Mom's SUV, and headed for Jade's. I had no idea what I was going to do but I promised Cat. And, truth be told, I really did like that dark, twisted girl regardless of how she felt about me
The Wests lived in a large Edwardian house further back in the Hollywood Hills. It looked warm and inviting - the opposite of what I expected which was, basically, the Addams home at best or the Munster house at worst. To be honest, I sometimes pictured the old cabin from the Evil Dead movies…
(In case movies and TV shows didn't survive to your time, The Munsters and The Addams Family were old 1960s sitcoms about families of…monsters. Universal used their trademarked horror movie icons for the Munster clan. The Addams' were adaptions of old Charles Addams single-panels comics in the New Yorker magazine in the 1940s and 1950s. The Evil Dead franchise was a warped, creepy, gory over-the-top parody of old horror tropes.)
There was no answer when I rang the bell and then hammered the large brass door knocker. I stopped after the first echoes reached me. The hollow echo was like the crack of doom. Although part of me had to snicker, reminded of the arrival of Fronkensteen at Castle Frankenstein in Mel Brooks' Young Frankenstein. That was a classic, black and white comedy and a marvelous send-up as well as an homage of the old Universal monster movies I mentioned earlier, especially the classic Frankenstein movies from the 1930s.
I walked around the house and saw the four-car garage. One door was wide open and there were no cars on the other spaces within, especially a black classic muscle car I hoped to see. As a result, I hoped that Jade was okay and she and her family had fled the city. Still, I wrote a note and slid it through the old-fashioned mail slot in the front door, knowing it was probably a fruitless attempt to contact her. The Wests were undoubtedly halfway to...wherever.
I really hoped she was alright.
Taking a slightly different way home, curious about what was going on, I passed a shopping center. The stores all looked closed. One of the big front windows was busted out of the Alpha Beta grocery store that anchored one end of the plaza. None of the windows were intact at the Walgreens at the other end. In between, the stores were shuttered. Further down the street, an entire strip mall was a blackened, smoldering ruin.
Seeing no one, I was feeling very uncomfortable. The fact that I had, stupidly, left any of the guns at home didn't help. I turned on the radio. All the stations were directing me to the Emergency Alert System stations. I think they were the same two AM frequencies of the old Emergency Broadcast System, and the older, Cold War era Conelrad network. (I knew about them from my own interest in the apocalypse when we studied this in my history class a few months before. Old time transistor radios, even car radios, had two little triangles on the dial to indicate the two Conelrad frequencies to be tuned to in the event of an emergency or a nuclear attack. Which, technically, would be an emergency…)
There was one station where the announcer repeated a lot of the warnings I'd heard before on the local news. But at least it was a human voice, even if it was recorded.
At home, I was already on my way upstairs to her room as I called for Trina but she didn't answer. Inside there was no sign of her. The pajamas she wore when she was sick were on the floor and it looked like she pulled out some other clothes out to put on.
I went through the house then checked the yard. Still nothing. Then I realized that I didn't see her car where I had parked it a few days before. How had I missed that?
I went back into the house, locking the doors, and saw the note on the breakfast counter.
Tori,
Going to check on Aunt Sonya. Mom must be there but I wanna see how Sonya is anyway. Be back soon.
Treen
P.S. Thanks for the sub. Would've preferred the leftover family pie though.
With a brief, welcome laugh, I closed my eyes in relief but then realized that she still didn't know Mom was gone. A fresh wave of grief, mixed with guilt, almost overwhelmed me. But so much was going on so fast that…
I had to shake it off.
Then more regret. I really had no excuse. And felt even worse about that. I hadn't even thought about my favorite aunt, Dad's younger sister. Sonya's such a sweet and very cool lady. And so in tune with kids my age. I tried her but got her voice mail. Trina's phone immediately went to voice mail. Maybe she was talking to someone? At least I hoped.
I was on the verge of getting in the car and heading to Palos Verde…until I heard a shot up the street towards the crest of the ridge. The Olsens and the Morrows lived up there and had been engaged in a verbal duel for the past few weeks over parking in front of each other's house – stupid in my opinion. I had to wonder if this rift gave someone an excuse to up the ante on their feud. That gunshot underscored the fact that the sun was setting and driving in a city on the edge of chaos at night wasn't the best idea. A giant motorized cupcake with a flat tire came to mind.
And the near-legendary feud between the Hatfields and the McCoys in Appalachia over a century ago.
So, instead of heading into the night, a few minutes later, I turned on the TV. KCBS was the only local station still broadcasting that wasn't full of reruns or pre-recorded infomercials. The woman at the broadcast desk was one of their early morning traffic reporters who had obviously been pressed into service at the studio. She looked haggard.
This is the best I can do as a transcript but I think it's fairly accurate.
"The Fever has hit L.A. hard. Civil authorities are doing the best they can with limited manpower. The locally based State Police are augmenting Southland law enforcement. City Hall has issued traffic restrictions and cancelled all public gatherings and closed all public venues. This on top of the curfew established earlier today.
"As reported earlier, all airports, train stations, bus terminals, ports and marinas are closed to public traffic. The interstates out of Los Angeles are packed bumper-to-bumper and moving at a crawl at best. Most are locked in a static mass of unmoving vehicles. Traffic on I-15 north of San Bernardino is a miles-long log jam due a multi-vehicle accident past the merge with I-215 that also has blocked traffic in both directions. If you have to drive, please avoid the freeways if possible.
"I-5 north bound and I-405 in either direction are essentially parking lots. The same for I-10 and the Pacific Coast Highway south of Long Beach and north of LAX. Surface streets are better but that depends on the direction. The Harbor Freeway is mainly clear except for blockages with the I-405 and downtown I-5 interchanges. Same with I-605, the San Gabriel River Freeway, again except for the interchanges with the 105, the 405 or the Artesia Freeways.
"As we stated before, network feeds are sporadic. We have managed to piece together some of the events going on around the country. International communications are even worse than domestic.
"According to unnamed government sources and unverified eyewitness reports, San Francisco has initiated burial at sea - barges loaded with thousands of bodies are reportedly being taken out past the Golden Gate and then sunk beyond the Farallon Islands. Reportedly New York is doing the same thing. Barges are being towed as far south as the Hudson Canyon before being scuttled."
She was handed a sheet of paper. She paused and reread the note before continuing, "Unconfirmed reports state that Los Angeles is also sending bodies of victims to the harbor area of San Pedro to haul out into the Catalina Channel while clouds of extremely dense smoke are seen coming from Dodger Stadium, the Coliseum and the Rose Bowl as well as Angel Stadium in Anaheim. We have been unable to get any official word on what is happening there, but unconfirmed reports indicate that these sites are now massive funeral pyres.
"The latest word from Washington is that the new president is ill. No one is saying if it's the Fever or not.
"The CDC, outside of local news bites, has not issued any statements in the past fourteen hours. In fact, there has been no contact with Atlanta for over ten hours. As you may know, the CDC is headquartered in Atlanta. Most of the southeastern Unites States is silent as are the New England States, the Upper Great Plains, Central California, and most of Arizona. Kansas City is quiet. St. Louis is still broadcasting on a single channel as is Chicago. Milwaukee, Nashville and Memphis are quiet.
"A biologist from USC, who asked to remain anonymous, stated her belief that the announced mortality rate of the Fever is far below the true threshold. In fact, she believes the mortality rate is far higher. According to the doctor, at best, one in a thousand are immune. Maybe even up to one in five thousand. That ratio may increase as more information becomes available." Just as Dad told me.
"To protect the public, the National Guard and units of the U.S. Army have been augmenting police and fire efforts. Reports of troops shooting people who rushed a barricade at Long Beach Airport are unsubstantiated..."
At that point, the screen went blank. Shortly after, a message referring to technical difficulties was shown. Remembering what happened to Kathy Bates' character in TV version of The Stand, I hoped the same hadn't happened at KCBS.
I tried to call Dad but the call went to voice mail. Same with Trina and Aunt Sonya. Cat's phone just rang. I tried the rest of the gang getting either voice mail or no answer at all. The land lines were equally useless.
By now, overwhelmed by my personal grief and the news reports, I was feeling desperately scared and lonely.
And more lost than I ever had in my entire life.
Note: Again thanks to Loganx5 who's suggestions were excellent.