Chapter 1

Chapter 1


The trout sizzled over Louis’ campfire; she was the first fish he had caught since the crisis began. The unbelievable had happened only 6 weeks ago, plague swept across the planet like a wildfire. Before the power grid broke down, the news said that mortality was in the area of ninety-five percent.
Fishing without proper tackle was hard, Louis found. “I need to find a sports store soon,” he thinks “I can’t survive with a knife and my shoe strings for long.”

Louis was a truck driver; he drove a local route in the Buffalo area, the company name does not matter, as it is all dead now. Travel is the only way to stay alive these days, dead bodies litter the streets and almost every building. The smell in the cities is horrible, even the smell in the small towns has been almost overpowering. Travel is hard, even though Louis has been camping and hiking since he was a boy. Clean water has been hard to find with all the death; the water becomes contaminated quickly.

. Life has gone on, and much has changed, Louis realized as he traveled south towards Pittsburgh. While all the equipment was there for the taking, death came fast for anyone without courage; seeing the absence of other people is very distressing.

Louis took it upon himself to release all the trapped pets he finds, owners dead or missing. Louis stayed the night in many of these pets homes, but very soon the little bit of food that is left in their kitchens will be spoiled.

Louis wakes up in one of these houses. The house was a duplex in some village he has never heard of. One side of the building was locked and boarded up so tight, as hard as he tried, he could not get in. The name of this place was so meaningless to him he does not even remember the name. “I need to figure out where I am going” Louis thought. “Wandering generally south is not a long term plan.” A plan begins to form in his mind, but he needs some information. Not knowing where he is does not help his information search. Louis packs his meager belongings, intent on finding his way to some place more significant. On his way out of town, he finds a gas station; Louis grabs a pocket atlas and some sunflower seeds. Sunflower seeds remind him of a happier time, playing softball at the company picnic, and the friendly corporate games between some of the other businesses. He was quite the outfielder, generally left field; Louis could throw a runner out from the wall to second base.
Louis begins walking out of town to the west; he wishes he knew more about this area. He is surprised that, being a truck driver, he is as unfamiliar with the area of western New York as he would be with Sweden. As he is walking, he looks at the atlas, and sees that this road meets up with Interstate 86 about 10 miles away. He now sees that he is in the town of Little Valley. It was not much of a place, but it served his purpose for the night.

The road is clear in this area; Louis has not seen roads this clear in some time. Of course, no one lives here; all around him, he sees only cow pastures and woods. Someone ahead of him already released the cows; he can see the tracks and some piles of shit on the edges of the road and in the woods.

Suddenly, Louis sees off in the distance, something large and moving quickly. He looked and whatever it was was already gone. Louis cautiously begins to move towards the figure. At this time, he realizes that he has nothing but a pocketknife and his hands to defend himself.

“This is a bad time to realize that I am basically a walking side of meat; walking through the boondocks like this, with a pig sticker as my only defense.” Louis thought. “I really need to find something else” As Louis approached the spot he thought he saw the creature, or whatever it was, he looked down and saw no sign of anything passing this way for some time.

“This is odd considering the amount of livestock and wildlife around here.” He thinks. Louis sees a piece of metal, a rod or piece of rebar that fell off a truck, he picks it up and decides that it as good a weapon as any. He continues up the road, as he goes another quarter mile he hears a sound off to the side of the road. He stops suddenly and calls out, “Hello?” Waiting a moment, he threatens, “I have a bar and I will beat anything that scares me!” When he hears nothing else, he decides to continue down the road.

“I wonder what that was. It could have been an animal I guess.” He puts his bar in the straps of his pack, within reach, but not in his hands. He does not want to risk cutting himself on the rusty thing if he does not have to. “Tetanus shots are hard to find these days.,” he thinks.

Louis continues along the road for several hours. He thinks he may have misread the map, as he should have reached a major roadway by now. This area is too populated for Louis to not have found one by now. Sometime in mid-afternoon, Louis begins to look for a place to sleep tonight. There are not many houses around him, as he is in a heavily wooded area. Then as he comes around a bend, he sees a very old farmhouse. The paint is peeling, and the roof needs repaired, but it looks dry. That is all he needs for the night, he can always sleep on the ground floor.

As he climbs the driveway, he sees that all the windows are intact, and the door looks solid. This was probably a house that was still lived in until the crisis, but there are no signs of life now. The windows are dark, and the driveway has no vehicle in it. Louis searches around the house, looking in the windows and in the yard for anything that might alarm him. seeing nothing, he decides to knock on the front door, a solid oak door that looks like it has seen many years and is still strong. Louis knocks many times to ensure that if there were anyone here, he would be heard. He also calls out, and checks around the house again.
He sees that no one is, in fact, inside the house. Louis tries to open the door, finding the door locked, he is puzzled. This is the first door he has found locked since leaving the city. “Country people do not lock their doors often.” he thinks.

Louis then goes around to the back of the house. Finding a door to the kitchen, he tries to open it. This door is also locked, but it is a lot less sturdy than the front door, so he shoulders it open. It lurches open with a loud crack, splintering the frame and catching Louis’s upper arm causing a small gash that bleeds quite a bit. Louis grabs the wound in pain.

“Fucking shit!” Louis exclaims. “All I need is some god damned, mother fucking, piece of shit door in the mother fucking woods to hold me back!” After shouting, Louis surprisingly feels better. He looks around the room, seeing a discarded dishtowel, he grabs it and ties it around his arm as a makeshift bandage until he has more time to dress it properly.

Exploring the room, he finds that the stove runs on gas, or maybe propane, as there is a large tank in the back part of the yard. “That will be useful.” He remarks. He looks into the cupboards, and seeing many cans of food, he thinks “I will eat great tonight! Too bad I have no way to carry all this without exhausting myself.” He proceeds into the next room, finding it to be just a dining room with only a table and sideboard, moves on to the rest of the house. The next room is the living room with a fold out couch and an antique looking television. He finds the bathroom next and a closet with many sizes of coats and boots.

Going upstairs, he sees that, while the roof looks like it would leak, there are no water stains on the ceiling. He also finds a few bedrooms, all bear surprisingly considering the closet. However, in what looks like to be the master bedroom, he finds a small cot with a few pieces of clothing and a rifle leaned in the corner.

“There is a God, and he is watching out for me!” he cries. Examining the gun, he realizes that it has no ammunition, and he does not see any in this room. “I take that back.” he thinks. Searching the meager clothing, he finds that it is only of any use for rags. It is full of holes and smells like piss and vinegar. “Well so much for this.” He thinks.

Finding nothing else of interest, he goes back down to the kitchen. Pulling out various cans, he begins making something for dinner. While the pot with stew heats, he searches more drawers. He finds many things that may be of use on a trip like the one he is taking. He refills his match case, finds a few small candles, and some pain pills in a waterproof bottle. He sets the rifle on the counter and takes off his shirt. “Time to fix up my arm.” he thinks” I hope there is some Neosporin in the cabinet.” In the bathroom, he takes the towel off his wound and looks at it in the mirror. It is not as bad as he thought, it is painful, he tries to clean it with a clean towel, and he loses his balance and knocks into the handle of the toilet. It flushes, surprising Louis. “Holy shit, the water works!” he shouts to no one. He tries the hot and cold water, he finds they both work! “Looks like I can have a real shower. I had better take advantage of this!” Louis is elated, he has felt slightly ill smelling himself, and cold water only gets you so clean. Taking off the rest of his clothes, Louis takes a very much-needed shower and finishes feeling better than he has since his hurried exodus from Buffalo.

He finishes drying, and then goes to the kitchen where his stew is ready on the stove. “I wonder why this house is empty. Also, whose stuff is that upstairs?” he wonders. Louis decides to sleep on it and worry about it in the morning. A thought then occurs to him, rushing to the other room; he tears open his pack, and pulls out all his clothes. Running to the bathroom, he throws them all in, filling the tub he runs around to find some soap. He finds a large bottle of dollar store brand dish soap. “I guess this is as good as anything,” he thinks. Washing clothes by hand with nothing to scrub them with is a lot harder than he thinks. Finally, he gets the majority of the mud and road grime off, and his clothes no longer smell like a gym locker. He hangs them over the shower rod, the edge of the tub, and anywhere else, he can find. He pulls out a western novel he has been reading while traveling and settles down to sleep the night. Just before he drifts off, he thinks again “Why is this place empty? Well, it is my gain; I may spend a long time here.”

In the middle of the night, Louis wakes with a start. He hears a noise outside that sounds like a cross between a pig and an elephant, maybe a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Jumping with a start, he promptly bangs his leg off the coffee table. He howls in pain, then realizes that there is most likely a monster outside waiting to eat him, slamming his jaw shut, hand over his mouth for good measure. He creeps to all the windows and looking out, he sees nothing. Checking them all, he waits quietly until he hears the sound again. He hears it again, this time at the front door. Louis grabs his bar, sneaking as quietly as he can, peers out the side window. He is relieved to see, though there is in fact a shape in the front yard, it is small. “Not a T-Rex after all” he sighs.

Deciding it is most likely safe; he opens the door a crack. He is greeted by a howl like something from the bowels of hell. He hurriedly slams the door, and runs back to his bed on the couch. Scared, he peeks out like a child afraid of the dark. “What the hell was that?” he thinks. Somehow, he falls into a fitful sleep.