Vaxdemic Book 2: Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Seth and Harold. These are the first true outsiders I met after the old world stopped. I thought I might be done with my journals, but what they told me needs to be recorded. I’ve also grown accustomed to having something to write in once in a while. So, I grabbed a new notebook from the stack. Both Seth and Harold are indeed Mennonites. They have taken up temporary residence in one of the few remaining unsalvaged houses across the street.
Seth is not what I expected in a farm dwelling religious fundamentalist. He’s about five years younger than me but already has four children. He’s also very talkative. Harold is, quiet. Even when I allowed both through the gate the second day the stocky man almost never says a word. He smiles frequently, but rarely says anything unless asked a direct question. Claire was not happy about letting them both in even if they are unarmed. She’s warmed up a bit more, but still gives them the side eye.
Why did I let them both in? Well Seth’s been telling me everything he can about the world outside the city, what little they know of, and both men have been helping me work. I have been bringing in a particularly large harvest this year. Last year this took me almost a week. Seth and Harold jumped in and we finished by the middle of the next day. Both men are faster than me at this work. They even showed me ways to improve my own methods. Most importantly, the dogs like them. But neither their help nor Harold’s ever-present smile prepared me for what Seth had to say.
The world outside the city is gone. Not literally, but Seth estimates that less than ten percent of the population remains from before. All communication has shut down, and even those who had radios say they’ve long since gone silent. There are a lot of survivors outside the city. According to Seth, his people even try to help them. It turns out that the Mennonites barely noticed anything had happened till the middle of spring last year. A hiker stopped by a small store the Mennonites ran where they sold their own goods. At first, they thought he was some yuppie on an early holiday, until the man tried to pay through silver, then barter with bullets. When asked for cash, the man started to laugh. It was their first nudge that something was not right in the outside world.
The Mennonites own a very large parcel of land north of the city. Basically, about four or five mountains worth. They were well off the main roads and normally don’t see many outsiders in the winter. It was decided they would send someone out to check if the man told them the truth about what had happened. That’s when they discovered the preppers. Most of these folks were simply survivors who lived outside the city. Some had a basic idea of farming and hunting, and were able to scratch out a small living. Some even had minor access to electricity and running water. The problem was, there were many who did not have the necessary survival skills.
Seth told me about the leader of his faction, a man named Mark Roth. Roth said the die off as a sign from God that the world was to be made a new, and that the Mennonites were in the best position to show the wayward survivors a better way. Roth has been opposed by a number of his own people, but he has started feeding and teaching the most destitute of survivors how to farm as if they were missionaries in a foreign land. Surprisingly, many people have started adopting their beliefs, as well as their farming practices. Most of these new homesteaders have taken up abandoned (or just available) land and houses left behind to the east of the city on the opposite side of the interstate.
Then I asked Seth about the west and south. For the first time since I had met him Seth frowned. Apparently there had been a massive prison to the west I didn’t know about. When the power shut off and didn’t come back on the surviving prisoners escaped, killed what little guards were left, and now they’re little better than bandits. Many tried moving north raping and pillaging as they went. They found out to their misfortune that the Mennonites are well armed. Then they turned their attention south. Seth’s discomfort seemed to grow, then he told me there was nothing good in the south, and I should never venture beyond the city in that direction. When I asked for more information, my guest refused me for the first time.
He did elaborate further on the east and west. Apparently, most of the dregs from the city who weren’t killed migrated out of the city in every direction but north. They were the first to tell everyone the city was deadly, and full of nothing but insanity and corpses. I felt bad laughing at this. When Seth’s eyebrows rose, I knew it was my turn to talk.
So, talk I did. I told him about Ruth, and how we started the farm, how I found Abby and Rusty, about the cougar, and my water pump and windmills. Then I mentioned the hospital, and that’s when he looked truly interested. Apparently on their travels they passed by downtown, but decided to stay far away due to the awful smell and lack of animals. I told him what I saw inside. Apparently one of the homesteaders decided they would explore the city over a year ago and raid the hospital for medicine. He never came back.
I needed to know more about the homesteaders. Seth’s smile returned. “I was hoping you’d be interested. They have a leader, of sorts. His name is Matt Chou, he used to be a prepping consultant. Now he’s the go to guy for many of the homesteaders. But he’s struggling.”
“I don’t think I need help here.” It was the only response I could think of.
“It’s not his place to help you, but yours to help him. Many in his group are ill suited to a rural life, but they’re not unskilled. I would like to bring him and some of his people here. There is something that I think you can do that will help out more than Roth making them all farmers.”
I had no clue what I could offer. This Matt guy seemed to be the one others turned to for answers. Also, why shouldn’t they become farmers. The life wasn’t so bad. Besides maybe having a large farming community would mean I could find some potatoes, or even beef again. What could I provide that Matt couldn’t? I had to ask, “What do you think I can help with.”
Seth smiled as he explained. “Many things. You’ve explored the city. You know where things are, and how it’s changed. From what you’ve told me I think many of them could be useful to you, but mostly I believe you might be the right person to fix the dam.”
“What dam?”
“Smith’s Summit dam. It was decommissioned a decade ago. It sits to the Northeast of the city. If it was restored you could bring power back to all the survivors.” At his word both Seth and Harold look towards me expectantly.
“I have no idea how to fix a dam. I could barely get my own power to work,” I told them.
“But you did get it to work, on your own. You understand electricity, and I’m not so blind that I don’t know it will be needed.” Seth said.
“I wouldn’t even know where to start, or what I would need. Besides I have a family I need to feed, animals to attend to. I have no way to haul anything, including myself to the damn, all my fuel is gone.” This wasn’t entirely true. I still had a lot of propane left, but I couldn’t use it to move my trucks.
“We’re not asking that you go up there tomorrow. We simply would like you to converse with Mr. Chou. I’m sure he has a number of people who could help you. I will also use my influence to convince our Elders to help.” Seth said, as Harold nodded behind him.
I was flummoxed. This was too much to take in. Then a sudden thought broke through the confusion. “What do you get out of it?”
Seth looked surprised and his smile faltered for a brief moment. “Truthfully, I don’t believe Pastor Roth will be able to convert everyone. Many will want nothing to do with us. Some will want to subjugate others. Mine are not a martial people. We will defend ourselves, but there are those who will find easy power among the destitute looking for a return to modernity. If we can bring back some semblance of the old comfort, perhaps we can forestall the rise of something terrible.” Seth’s words astounded me. He had thought further ahead than I would have dared. “Also, we may have some use for electricity ourselves.”
I looked away, and thought. I had no idea how to address this. I was worried about my little farm. I had thought little about the designs and master plans of shadowy tyrants, seizing the opportunity to carve out a little kingdom for themselves. What would give him this notion in the first place? Once again, a niggling little thought came to me. “You don’t happen to have an idea what this terrible thing maybe?”
Now Seth looked down, Harold too. “Mr. Stackey, I will not profane your home by saying his name.”
Bob Stackey
May 23, 2023