Chapter 15

[Charlie writes from Lisbon]

We settled in at the terminal with food at a couple of tables and our peoples met one another. A surprising number of the Portuguese spoke English. I guessed it was due to Monica Lewis. We began to tell our stories and I found that I was mostly, but not totally, correct.

I asked Mom Janice to tell our story. She did it quite well including some of the early days of Preservation. She told of gaining airplanes and the trips and places where we had friends, naming El Paso as the place where I had found and romanced Andrea. She interrupted to say, "Charles didn't romance me. I had to chase him until he caught me." She smiled and kissed me. "I'm eternally grateful that he did." I kissed her this time.

Mom told about our trip to Africa via Gibraltar. She mentioned Barcelona where we were attacked. I noticed that there were some nods. She concluded. "We have one more planned stop in Vigo, Spain, before we return to Milan to pick up some more of our party staying there. From Milan, we will fly back to Preservation and Protection.

Monica asked, "How do you stay in touch?"

I said, "We use amateur radios and talk all the way to our homes in Georgia and Tennessee. Between the radios and the planes, we are able to stay in touch and even provide assistance to one another. We have batteries and simple generators to offer along with radios if you wish them."

There was a little translation and a lot of nodding. It was becoming time for supper and I saw more people enter the terminal. Monica came and greeted them. She came toward us with a startlingly handsome young man with her. "This is my 'grandson, ' David. I'll explain more tonight when I tell you my story. We are related by love."

Bobbi walked up then and David gasped. He said, "Andy, I didn't know you had a sister."

Andrea grinned. "Bobbi is my husband's sister. Charles, introduce her."

I said, "Monica, David, this is my sister, Bobbi." They all nodded at each other. "We let her hang around with us because no one will have her." Bobbi looked exasperated and Monica and David looked disbelieving.

David said, "Since they are so cruel to you, please let me convey you away from their crass lack of attention." He was grinning and offered his arm. Bobbi grinned back and took his arm and they walked away.

Monica said, "That will be interesting since he has never done that before. Charlie, your sister is beautiful though."

We were introduced to more people and I saw some stringed instruments be brought into the terminal with the newcomers. Our people had brought theirs and I could see entertainment coming. It was time to eat and we put everything into a pot luck meal as people freely mixed together. I noted that Bobbi was still with David and they were talking to many people. I know I've made it sound like a lot but the Portuguese were less than fifty when all were counted. It just seemed like a lot because we hadn't seen anyone in a while.

After dinner, Monica offered to tell her story. I have set it down in its entirety.

[Monica's story]

My name is Monica Lewis and this is my story from the Day.

The initial news from the U.S. did not matter to many in Italy. The tsunami from the division of Florida did not reach the Italian coast though the damage to the English, French, and Spanish coasts facing the Atlantic was considerable. The fallout would not reach anyone in Italy. A week later though, people began to sicken and die. That did make the news.

By then, the U.S. news was becoming disjointed as much of that nation began to fall to the disease. The disease virus had spread and reports were coming through the news agencies telling of people getting sick all over the world.

My husband and I were vacationing from Atlanta, Georgia. By the time we realized the seriousness of the virus, air traffic to the U.S. was non-existent. Our two children and their families reported by phone as sick. A couple of days later, no one answered the phone and news from the U.S. had ground to a halt. CNN was using endless loop tapes. Then, David became sick.

The few hospitals in the area were quickly overflowing with sick people. After a futile attempt to call an ambulance or talk to a doctor, we stayed at the rented villa. David became sicker through that day and the next until that evening. I thought he might be getting better as I sat with him. Suddenly, I realized he was not breathing. I felt for his breath or the sound of his heart or a pulse but he was still and dead. I was glad that our last words were of love from the nearly thirty years of marriage we had shared.

I slept in the recliner next to the bed with David's body. I woke in the morning to the grim reality that I was in another country, another continent, far from my home with no apparent means to get to that home. I took David's hand and cried, "David, what shall I do?"

I tried but couldn't move his body from the bed. At that point, I knew I would eventually have to leave the villa because of the odor from his body. I cried frequently over the next two days but later had to leave the room with the door shut. I moved into the living room area and slept on the couch. I cried some more. David and I hadn't been religious. Repeated calls from me to our children resulted in voicemails and no answer or response.

I was eating irregularly but, even so, a week or so later found me out of food. I would have to leave the villa for food and to escape the smell coming from the bedroom. I stood at the bedroom door and said, "David, I miss you so very much. I am leaving and will not return but you will always be in my heart. Thank you for the many happy years we shared." With tears rolling down my cheeks, I turned from the bedroom door and went into the living room area. I packed a couple of changes of clothes, my passport, phone and charger, and wallet with its pictures into a neat package. I had a backpack type purse and filled it. When I left, I didn't lock the door.

I climbed in the rental car and slowly drove into the little town looking for signs of life. There was no one outside and no sounds of people or vehicles. I went to the place where we had shopped for food and collected some things to eat and to carry for meals later. I loaded a case of water into the trunk of the car. A mile later, I stopped to fill the tank with gas. I headed north toward Naples. I said out loud then, "It will be a lonely trip." I remembered the fun of the drive down with David.

I followed the coast road driving slowly. I hoped to find someone to partner with. It would be a long, lonely trip to Naples. I saw no one. Before arriving in Salerno proper, I went to the airport and found the area deserted. After that, I drove to the town center, figuring that people who were alive might have gone there. I hoped that anyone alive would go there in hopes of finding others. I drove into the square with no one calling me to stop. I stopped about a third of the way in and blew the horn hoping to attract attention.

I got out and looked around. I could see bodies here and smell decomposition wafting from them. At a distance, I could see a man waving and shouting, "Hello!" as he ran to me. He stopped a little over ten feet away. He stared. "You're alive!"

I said, "I'm Monica Lewis from the United States. My husband and I were here on vacation. He-he didn't make it." Tears ran down my cheeks again.

He said, "Missus Lewis, I'm sorry. I am Edward Stratham from Birmingham, England. My wife, Lydia, didn't make it either. We were here on holiday, too. Your horn brought me to my senses. I have been wandering in the area for a long time, it seems." He moved slowly forward to shake my hand and then moved back a step.