Chapter 5

February, 2016

It was almost noon the next day before we were ready.

We decided to take two vehicles. Doc Caldwell would ride with me in my pickup. Kathy and Tim would follow in her Jeep Commander. The others would remain at the hospital, keeping a low profile.

The two-car convoy took the four-lane, Highway 25, north for about two miles and then turned east onto a paved two-lane county road. After five miles we turned north onto a gravel road. We had passed many deserted houses, including a couple that had burned to the ground; but saw no people.

The gravel road had a meandering path through low-land pine forest. The undergrowth was dense enough to cut visibility from the road to a fifty feet or so. A couple of miles and we came to a turnoff. Actually, just a rutted dirt track that led across an open meadow before disappearing once again into the tree line.

I pulled far enough onto the track to allow Kathy to pull in behind me. After getting out and telling her to switch to four-wheel-drive, I got back in my pickup and did the same. For years I had tried to get granddad to improve the road some... with at least a good base of gravel. Granddad would just smile knowingly and change the subject. The only upkeep he ever did to his 'driveway' was to run a bulldozed over it once a year to smooth the worst of the ruts and mudholes.

It was slow going. A time or two I thought I would get stuck with the heavily loaded pickup, but we managed to make it.

A mile from the house, the track crossed a shallow, gravel-bottomed creek and started to climb. It was here that I had to make another stop.

Just across the creek was a familiar sight. There was a metal fence gate between two posts that granddad had installed about ten years ago. No lock on the gate, it would have been ridiculously easy to drive around. Granddad had erected a six-foot square sign that he refreshed when necessary. Every time I had visited in the past, the sign had brought a smile to my lips. There was no smile this time. Just a numbness as I got out of the truck.

In bright red letters upon a white background the sign read, "YOU ARE NOT WELCOME! TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT! SURVIVORS WILL BE SHOT UNTIL DEAD! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

Kinda gives one the idea that granddad did not like visitors, don't it.

The pathetic gate offered little obstruction to entry. Or so it would seem. Granddad had showed me how to open the gate without setting off the alarm up at the house. I debated, for only a second, about just simply opening the gate and the hell with the alarm; but finally decided to go through the proper sequence.

Fifty yards beyond the gate and around a curve the track got much better, almost as good as the gravel road we had traveled previously.

We topped a small hill and granddad's place spread out before us with the Tennessee River visible beyond. Thirty acres of cleared, gently rolling ground ended at a one-hundred-foot cliff that dropped to the river. Split-rail fencing enclosed the three sides of the area that did not border on the river. Two small streams divided the parcel into almost equal segments.

The main house had originally been a one-story, dog-run log cabin with the kitchen and dining area on one end, and the sleeping area on the other and a breeze-way between. Over the years granddad had expanded the simple cabin into a two story, almost four-thousand square-foot log house. Solar panels on the roof glittered in the sun. Down stream from the house and within easy walking distance was a large steel barn, also with solar panels. The road cut through plowed fields and pasture. I could see the winter corn crop green in one field. Four grain storage bins were off to one side. There were other small, relatively recent buildings scattered along the cliff edge. In one pasture I could see a half-dozen horses, three cows and a bull. They lifted their heads from grazing to watch as we drove past.

"I've never been out here," Doc said. "But this is not what I expected. You never told me all this was here."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Granddad made me promise not to talk about it. Sorry, Doc. You know how he is."

Doc Caldwell nodded. "Closed mouth bastard is what he is. Don't get me wrong, James, I liked the old man. But he acted and dressed like he didn't have a pot to piss in." He lifted a hand and waved at all before us. "How did he do all this? I thought he was living on his military pension, for God's sake. Even tried to help him out, a time or two; and he always refused -- Politely --, but he told me to mind my own damn business many times."

"I don't know," I said as I stopped the truck in front of the house. "There was always something new every time I came out here. He said it kept him busy and out of mischief. When I turned fifteen years-old, he stopped the rest of my family from coming out here. As far as I knew I was the only one ever to visit. I would ask him how he got all the building supplies and concrete delivered, but he would always change the subject."

Kathy and Tim got out of their Jeep and walked to stand beside us.

"This is old man Pitt's place?" Kathy said surprised. "Whenever I saw him in town, I felt sorry for the poor, old man living out here in the boondocks." She pointed to a satellite dish visible at one side of the house. "I had no idea..."

"Nor did anyone else," Doc said. He looked around. "Where is the son-of-a-bitch anyway?"

I was wondering that myself. Granddad was usually waiting for me at the fence-line. I dreaded what I might find inside the house.

"GRANDDAD!," I yelled. "GRANDDAD. IT'S JIMMY."

Only the breeze blowing through the trees and the sound of the river answered.

It was then that I noticed a sheet of paper nailed to the front door. I climbed the four steps to the wide porch that ran the length of the house.

Pulling the paper from the nail I read, "Whoever finds this place is welcome to it. If you can hold it, you will be worthy of living here after all the shit the world has gone through. If my great-grandson James Thomas Greer shows up, you take him in. If you don't, I'll come back and haunt you. That's a promise. Jimmy, if you show up, I'm sorry not to be here for you. You know where to look.

Daniel Pitt"

I handed the page to Doc and opened the door as he read it.

Stepping inside, the air was hot and stale; as it gets when a house has been closed up for a while. Sunlight through the windows provided enough light to see. The entrance hallway lead to the back of the house. To the right where the old kitchen had been, over the years, converted to a living room. To the left, the previous sleeping area had become granddad's office. The rest of the first floor had a large kitchen, dining room, bath, granddad's bedroom, and utility area. Upstairs were three baths and six bedrooms with an open attic over those. There was a full basement under the house that granddad had divided into several areas that he used mainly for storage.

I turned to the others. "I would appreciated it if you all would take a look through the other buildings."

Kathy said, "You sure you don't want someone with you?"

I shook my head. "I had rather do this by myself, Kathy."

"Come on, kids," Doc Caldwell said before the situation got too awkward, "let's take a look around."

"Thanks, Doc," I said as he lead everyone toward the barn.

I slowly walked through the house. The echos of my footsteps on the wooden floors were my only welcome.

I figured that granddad was dead. Another victim of the Flu. Or perhaps of his age.

I hesitated at his bedroom door, suddenly afraid to push it open.

I stepped into the room and looked at the bed.

Neatly made. No one. More to the point -- No Body.

I let out a breath that I had not realized I had been holding.

I turned and practically ran upstairs. Checking all the rooms. Frantic I even looked under all the beds and in the closets.

Next stop was the basement, but I found the door padlocked. This was new. Granddad never locked the door before and I had no idea where the key was. I could always tear the lock away, but obviously granddad could not have locked himself in the basement; so I put that task aside for another time.

Twenty minutes later I was sitting on the front porch swing when the others came back to the house.

"Jimmy?" Kathy asked as she sat on the swing and reached for my hand.

The others sat on chairs that I had gathered around the swing. Doc Caldwell settled his bulk on a seemingly too small stool.

I shook my head. "Nothing. He's not here."

"Nobody in the other buildings either," Tim said.

"It's like he just walked off," Doc said. He looked at the surrounding woodland. "Maybe he did wander off. Disoriented from fever..."

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe." I pointed at the paper Doc had folded and stuck in his shirt pocket. "But that doesn't sound like the words of someone disoriented. Does it?"

Doc took the paper out and unfolded it. Reading the words again, he said, "Nope. It don't give us any answers either. Just another question." He handed me the paper. "What does he mean that you will 'know where to look'?"

"Unless he's talking about the food supplies and such he had scattered about the buildings, I have no idea," I said. "Nothing special comes to mind."

"There is still power to the barn," Kathy said.

"And the outbuildings I checked," Tim added.

"Solar," Doc said lifting a thumb toward the roof.

I got up and stepped just inside the front door. I had been so focused on finding granddad that I had not thought to check before. I flipped the switch on the wall and a soft light glowed from the overhead fixture. It was satisfying that something was still dependable, at least for a time.

"Granddad also has several micro-hydro generators connected to the streams and one in the river," I said. "A hundred-foot drop give a hell-of-a pressure head to spin the turbine. As long as either system functions there will be some electricity. I'll have to keep the demand low though."

Doc just shook his head. "The man continues to amaze me."

I smiled at his words. "That is what he would want to hear, Doc. He showed me a lot of stuff he did around the place. I even helped with a bit of it. But I don't think even I knew just how smart and resourceful he was."

"It is like he knew what was coming," Tim said.

Doc dismissed the idea with a shake of his head. "Shit. He had been sprouting 'end-of-the-world' as long as I knew him. Even a blind cat can find a mouse if he looks long enough."

I pointed towards the northeast. "Did you know there is a shallow vein of coal over that way?"

Doc shook his head. "I thought all the coal was way to the east in the Appalachians."

"He and I were out hunting several years ago when he showed it to me," I said remembering better times. "I don't know how much is there, but it is enough to get us started."

"Started with what?" Kathy asked.

"Lots of stuff," I answered. "Heat for one. There is a couple of old wood and coal burning iron stoves around here somewhere. Black smithing for another. It's damn hard to work metal with a charcoal fire. It can be done, but you can get the fire much hotter with coal. Or so I've heard."

"I am going to have to stop calling Daniel Pitt an old fool," Doc Caldwell said. His gaze drifted over the land and buildings. "He built himself a little oasis here."

"I'm staying," I said, finally voicing my decision.

That brought all heads turning to me.

"Out here? By yourself" Kathy said, her eyes wide with surprise. "What if something happens, you fall and break a leg or something."

"You all are welcome to stay," I answered. I was more sure I was making the right decision as I thought more about it. "There is plenty of room. A half-mile north is another clearing, about ten acres. Big enough to farm. With a fresh water spring. So, there is plenty of room if we get on each other's nerves."

I could see Doc thinking it over.

I could also tell that all Tim could see was the isolation. His words confirmed that. "It's so far away from everything."

"Far from what, Tim?" I asked.

"Well. From town and... Everything. There is just the woods and the river."

"What is in town, Tim, that will not disappear in a couple of months?" I said. "The hospital's generator will be out of fuel inside a week. I would guess..."

"Sooner than that," Doc Caldwell said.

"... the canned food in the stores and houses will be used up in a couple of months. It is grown your own food or starve time." I gestured toward the fields. "Another couple of weeks, a month at the outside, and the winter corn crop will be ready to harvest. Granddad even plowed the fallowed fields and they are ready for planting."

"There is plenty of farms closer to town," Tim said. "No reason to be out here."

Doc said, "I can think of least one reason right off the bat."

Tim and Kathy looked at him questioningly.

"Isolation," Doc said.

"That's what is wrong with this place, for God's sake!" Tim said, standing up and beginning to pace.

Doc look at Kathy, then at me. I motioned him to go ahead. I knew my reasons for staying and had a pretty good idea what Doc was leading up to.

"No, that is what is right with it, Tim" Doc said. "Look, Tim. Sit down will you, please, your making my neck hurt trying to follow you around. I -- none of us -- know how many people around here survived. We don't know what is going to happen when a bunch of those survivors get together. Iuka is right on the intersection of the area's two major highways. And the intersection of rail lines, running north-south and east-west. A hundred miles to the west is Memphis. Forty miles to the east is Florence and Muscle Shoals. Less than a hundred miles north is Jackson and Savannah. Fifty miles south is Tupelo. Up river on the Tennessee is Wilson Dam and down river is Pickwick Dam. Both of those are hydroelectric producers. If an armed band from any of those places starts searching around for food, sooner or later they are going to come to Iuka. And there is not enough folks here to defend the area. There might be -- might be -- three dozen people left in the entire county. Six months from now that number may be only a dozen. I plan on being one of those dozen. How about you?"