in this whole danged county.”
Rick was not amused. He thanked Junior and bluntly told him it was time for him to leave. Junior shrugged and waddled back to his tanker truck. Rick followed him to the road.
I had been sitting in front of the TV for over an hour and was about to turn it off when a headline flashed declaring breaking news. I grabbed the remote and turned the volume up. Rick walked in a short time later. “The propane tank is now full. Junior is long gone, I got the backhoe across the bridge again, and we are officially on lockdown. I strung some concertina wire at the front of the bridge too. It’ll be downright difficult for anyone to just walk through. What are you watching?”
I turned to him briefly and pointed to the TV. “They said O’Hare airport in Chicago has suspended all incoming and outgoing flights. No official reason has been given but the news woman is speculating the flu outbreak has caused a shortage of employees.”
Rick scoffed. “Yeah, right. They didn’t say anything about zombies, but what do you bet they’ve had some attacks. Alright Einstein, what’s so important about O’Hare?”
“Well, it’s an International airport. They have flights incoming from all over the world. About seventy to seventy-five million passengers a year go through the airport along with over a million tons of freight. If they’ve suspended all flights, it must be quite serious.” Rick nodded thoughtfully. He walked over to the map and replaced the blue thumbtack over Chicago with a red one.
“I don’t know how you know all these little facts about everything. But it’s damn helpful.” He scratched at his beard. “When something major like this happens, it can only mean one thing Zach. It means it can’t be contained.” My skepticism about Rick’s theory was long gone. All I could do was nod in agreement. He sat down in front of his Ham radio and grabbed the microphone. “WA4OEQ, QTH middle Tennessee, calling any listening station. Chicago is now in condition red. Chicago is now in condition red, over.”
After a moment, there was a response. “WD5KZZ to WA4OEQ, my QTH is Tulsa, Oklahoma. QSM please sir, over.”
Rick looked over at me. “QTH means the location you’re at and QSM means to repeat your last message. I need you to learn all this.” He looked at me seriously. “You need to know what a brother-in-law is too.” Rick turned his attention back to the radio before I could retort and repeated the information, going into more detail. After a few minutes of conversation, Rick bid the man seven’s and three’s, radio lingo for good luck, and signed off. “Okay, you heard what Tulsa said. Put a yellow tack on Tulsa, Norman, Oklahoma City, and Kansas City.” I did as told and we looked at the map together in silence for several seconds. Rick began pointing at the various tacks and making lines from each one. All of the major cities on the map were now covered in thumbtacks. “In just two days we have some reds and a whole shit load of yellows across the US alone.” He said it quietly, as though he did not believe it, even though he is the one so certain it was going to happen. “It’s spreading like wildfire.” I looked over at Rick’s dogs. They were looking at the map also.
In the ensuing hours, all of the airports and seaports closed. The Interstate system became a massive traffic jam with people frantically going to some place they believed to be safer than where they were. Grocery stores were emptied of their wares. Convenience stores, popular for the ease of purchasing gasoline and minor food products, were overrun with impatient customers. It inevitably lead to short tempers and fights. Spontaneous riots were breaking out
Rick was not amused. He thanked Junior and bluntly told him it was time for him to leave. Junior shrugged and waddled back to his tanker truck. Rick followed him to the road.
I had been sitting in front of the TV for over an hour and was about to turn it off when a headline flashed declaring breaking news. I grabbed the remote and turned the volume up. Rick walked in a short time later. “The propane tank is now full. Junior is long gone, I got the backhoe across the bridge again, and we are officially on lockdown. I strung some concertina wire at the front of the bridge too. It’ll be downright difficult for anyone to just walk through. What are you watching?”
I turned to him briefly and pointed to the TV. “They said O’Hare airport in Chicago has suspended all incoming and outgoing flights. No official reason has been given but the news woman is speculating the flu outbreak has caused a shortage of employees.”
Rick scoffed. “Yeah, right. They didn’t say anything about zombies, but what do you bet they’ve had some attacks. Alright Einstein, what’s so important about O’Hare?”
“Well, it’s an International airport. They have flights incoming from all over the world. About seventy to seventy-five million passengers a year go through the airport along with over a million tons of freight. If they’ve suspended all flights, it must be quite serious.” Rick nodded thoughtfully. He walked over to the map and replaced the blue thumbtack over Chicago with a red one.
“I don’t know how you know all these little facts about everything. But it’s damn helpful.” He scratched at his beard. “When something major like this happens, it can only mean one thing Zach. It means it can’t be contained.” My skepticism about Rick’s theory was long gone. All I could do was nod in agreement. He sat down in front of his Ham radio and grabbed the microphone. “WA4OEQ, QTH middle Tennessee, calling any listening station. Chicago is now in condition red. Chicago is now in condition red, over.”
After a moment, there was a response. “WD5KZZ to WA4OEQ, my QTH is Tulsa, Oklahoma. QSM please sir, over.”
Rick looked over at me. “QTH means the location you’re at and QSM means to repeat your last message. I need you to learn all this.” He looked at me seriously. “You need to know what a brother-in-law is too.” Rick turned his attention back to the radio before I could retort and repeated the information, going into more detail. After a few minutes of conversation, Rick bid the man seven’s and three’s, radio lingo for good luck, and signed off. “Okay, you heard what Tulsa said. Put a yellow tack on Tulsa, Norman, Oklahoma City, and Kansas City.” I did as told and we looked at the map together in silence for several seconds. Rick began pointing at the various tacks and making lines from each one. All of the major cities on the map were now covered in thumbtacks. “In just two days we have some reds and a whole shit load of yellows across the US alone.” He said it quietly, as though he did not believe it, even though he is the one so certain it was going to happen. “It’s spreading like wildfire.” I looked over at Rick’s dogs. They were looking at the map also.
In the ensuing hours, all of the airports and seaports closed. The Interstate system became a massive traffic jam with people frantically going to some place they believed to be safer than where they were. Grocery stores were emptied of their wares. Convenience stores, popular for the ease of purchasing gasoline and minor food products, were overrun with impatient customers. It inevitably lead to short tempers and fights. Spontaneous riots were breaking out
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