Tales of the Derry Plague by Anselmo, Ray (most inspirational books of all time TXT) 📗

one time when the old bat was shopping with her husband Steve and whined at Bilbo at the register about how her grandkids never called and that’s what’s wrong with your generation, boy, no gratitude. Steve cut her off with “This generation won’t put up with your BS, dear, and they’re right not to.” Bilbo held it together until they left, then almost fell over laughing.

And Mrs. Cavendish never did call corporate. As it was, Kelly did, telling Wanda the secretary about the incident. Wanda called back the next day, saying she’d told Mr. Ashcroft and he said not to ban her just yet but if it happened again he’d reconsider. Julian Ashcroft had worked in his dad’s stores when he was learning the business and knew full well the customer was not always right.

The third mention …

Had to work a long shift today bc Da Boss called in sick. Surprised us all, since she’d show up with a bullet would if she was on the sked. Hope she don’t have what Leslie got – that girl’s sick as a dog. Came home and Viv isn’t feeling so hot either. Better take my vitamins and hope for the best.

That was Monday of the week everything went to Hell. Part of her didn’t want to turn the page and read the rest. But she did read the next page, and the next, and the next.

There was no insight on how it happened or why, only that it did. Michanne fell ill the next morning, as did Sarah. On Wednesday LaSheba was starting to drag some herself, but she still went to work, figuring she’d be off Thursday and could rest then if she needed to. She listed symptoms in her diary, the same as in the news reports.

Thursday morning, Vivi Fifi found Leslie and Sarah dead in their beds. Michanne could barely stir from hers; she died sometime in the afternoon. And LaSheba went into shock. Her sentences became clipped, just detailing sensations and impressions: Scared. Bilbo at store doesn’t sound right. Afraid to go outside. News is scary. Confused, what’s happening?

Friday night, Vivi, who according to LaSheba had been silent all day, went to bed. Saturday morning, LaSheba found her there. On a nearby table was a bottle of Vicodin Michanne had been given six months before when she had her wisdom teeth removed – she’d only used two or three because she said she preferred the pain to feeling loopy. Now it was empty.

Saturday afternoon, the last note: Last one alive. I wish I understood why this is happening …

“You and me both, girl,” Kelly sobbed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “You and me both.” Her friend’s questions were hers as well – did God or Nature want to be rid of humanity? Did someone release something into the air, either as an attack or by accident? And she had an extra one to add: why was everyone else gone, and she was still here?!

She didn’t have answers to those. But she could weep for her friends, could mourn. For now, that would have to be enough.

14

TRUCK

Kelly spent the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday resting, doing the bare minimum needed to keep going. She scribbled a note or two on the projects list. She added an entry to her journal, a short one. She read part of a paperback techno-thriller she found on a bookshelf in the office. She slept late. She ate more than usual.

By Monday morning – day 22 – she was bored out of her nut. Time to be up and doing again.

Therein lay a difficulty. She’d been operating based on urgency from day 8 through day 19 – hurrying to get rid of the bodies, hurrying to preserve perishables, hurrying to get her meds, hurrying, hurrying, hurrying. Everything had to be done now if not sooner, or it would be too late to do it at all. Things had to be taken care of, or she wouldn’t have what she needed.

But the urgent was more or less done now. She had the resources of an entire town to draw from. She had no one else depending on her. She wasn’t being pressed by necessity to get X or Y finished before the sun went down.

Hypothesis: she had to think of a new way to deal with each day.

She’d always worked best when she didn’t have to think about that so much. She had a schedule for work, and plans for filling the hours around it – not set in stone, necessarily, but it gave her a fallback position, a comfort zone. She could adjust as needed, but if she didn’t need to she could just move to the next item.

Now the only items she had were on the long-term list she’d made Saturday. Some of those couldn’t be started now, and none of them needed to be. But … but she could use one to fill time while she thought about making a daily plan. That would at least take care of day 22. Day 23 … well, each day had enough troubles of its own, didn’t it?

Hmmm … well, moving that McDonald’s truck off the highway was at the top of the list. Specifically, find something with which she could move it – a bulldozer, a backhoe, something big with a lot of horsepower. She’d have to look around town for that. But while she was doing that, she could draw a map of town to keep track when she started doing the house-to-house scavenger hunt. Not to mention get a little exercise and a little sun (but not too much, given her Irish skin).

After a meal of dried meat, cheese, toast and fruit with plenty of water – she needed to bring more bottled water down from the store, come to think – she headed out the door with