A houseboat. Finegan Fine

Finegan drops to a squat at the base of the tower, which is enclosed in

a box. He pries open the door with a penknife and pulls out some wires,

inspecting them. He loosens some screws on the side of his radio and

attaches some wires from the tower directly to these points, then finds

the radio batteries are now dead. He looks at the radio in the

Russians’s hand, and sees it is a crank radio, generating its own

electricity.

Let’s try yours.

Finegan stands up to crank the Russian’s radio, then squats again to

connect wires. The Russian’s radio is making static noises as the dial

gets turned. Suddenly, they connect.

56

(skritch) . . meeting later . . (snap) . .

something to eat . .

Finegan presses a button to send a message.

Caruthersville, Alabama here. Can you tell me

your location?

The voice on the other end pauses, then says,

Memphis. Are you in contact with rescue

services?

Finegan responds,

No. I’ve been along the new Georgia coastline.

Florida is flooded. Atlanta is a zombie town.

Do you have international connections? Russia?

Memphis pauses, then laughts.

Are you kidding? Farthest we got was someone in

Asheville. Had them for awhile, but they were

being overrun with folks from the coast.

Flooding. Been a couple months now, no contact.

Where the heck is the national guard?

Finegan says,

I’ve seen no sight of them. Period. No

military, no guard. Everyone is on their own.

Memphis continues to press for information.

(skritch) food depot? We’re plumb out here.

Hunted out too. Some fish in the Mississippi

though. It’s big now, stretching west as far as

the eye can see.

Finegan says,

Everyone gardens, sheep and goats and the like.

You too?

After a pause, Memphis concurs.

Them that can, yeah. Lot of suicides here

lately. Peaceful. They go peaceful like.

Finegan signs off.

My Russian friend might connect now and then to

chat, but I gotta go now. Maybe I’ll make my

way up there. I run a trading houseboat. What

side of Memphis are you on?

Memphis laughs, and says,

The part above water. Ah, high, the hill tops.

Finegan signals his goodbye.

10-4.

Finegan turns off the radio, shaking his head in the negative, but the

Russian already has caught the drift.

57

No call home. Maybe you take me home in your

boat?

Finegan is startled at the request.

Oh, no, it’d never make the ocean. No can do.

No, no, you need a bigger boat, well, you need

a boat period. What I have is a raft! The waves

would go over it. We’d all die.

______________________________

Finegan and the Russian are returning to the camp, walking up a dirt

path toward the shanties that the camp has assembled from junk. These

are all people who were not welcomed at other communities, joining

forces and helping each other. There are more men than women present,

and every women is pregnant or with a baby in arms. Joey is playing

with a group of Mexican and Vietnamese boys, kicking a ball around.

The Russian points in the direction of the houseboat.

You no have light?

Finegan is reaching for the Russian’s radio and unscrews one side to

inspect how the crank device works. He looks up at the Russian.

No, but they can be rigged. You’ve got lots of

fresh vegetables, how about a trade?

Finegan is grinning at the Russian, as the crank motion has set him to

thinking.

______________________________

Several of the men are bringing forward car batteries and headlights

taken from hulks nearby. These cars had been driven to the migrant camp

when the migrants were ejected from other communities, and then parked.

They are old trucks and battered older cars, but ran as long as the

gasoline in their tanks lasted and where they were able to work their

way over fields to bypass breaks in the roads. The batteries are being

placed in a series, side by side and row after row, and wired together.

Finegan is working with the back of an old farmstead windmill, which