The Passage

women raped, we just haven't told you!

Daisy says,

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Danny, don't you see how good things are here? I've

gotten my nails to grow out again, and we can bathe

anytime we want to!

Danny looks dismayed, is speechless, a consternated look on his face. He

realizes for the first time how deep her self obsession runs. A tall couple

walks in, picking through the belongings left behind, and Danny stares at them

with comprehension. She won't be alone!

Well, I'm not staying here to die with you, suit

yourself.

Danny turns away, heading out the door to catch up with the rest.

_______________________________

In a clearing in the woods, Ian is taking a head count as the group silently

passes by him in single file. Ian admonishes.

Stay together now, stay close together!

The stragglers at the end are coming with larger breaks between them. Ian

turns to his assistant, a tall thin woman with her gray hair in a severe bun.

I didn't see the little boy and his granddad, or the

last of that bunch.

The assistant has a clipboard in her hands and has been checking things off as

the group passed.

That young woman and the newspaper man, they're

missing too.

Netty comes trudging into the clearing, trying to keep the end of the group

ahead of her in sight. She sees Ian and his assistant standing there and

smiles broadly, reassured that she hasn't lost them. She looks over her

shoulder as she walks on to the right, keeping track of those behind her.

Billy is some distance behind her on the trail, pausing to pick something up

off the ground, bending over, his boyish curiosity at play. As he does this

there is rustling in the bushes at the side of the path. Billy jerks upright,

his mouth open and eyes wide. The alpha dog in a wild pack, a large boxer so

lean he looks almost skeletal, his ribs showing, snarls.

Netty doesn't hesitate. She turns and returns along the path, breaking into a

strong running stride, covering ground silently with strong legs and broad

hips that have been strengthened through riding English style for many years.

Netty covers the clearing silently, racing toward the frozen Billy standing

like a statue.

The dogs are a mix of former pets - shepherds, boxers, and hounds - all kinds.

The smaller ones hang back and yip from the woods, excited at the possibility

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of a meal ahead but not yet willing to attack humans, still recalling their

former owners. Netty reaches Billy and lifts him off the ground into her arms.

Red and Danny come running up, Red whacking at the retreating alpha dog with

his jacket. Red says,

They’re starving!

Netty says,

Come on, we’d better keep up with the others. Common

Billy, no more dawdling.

Netty takes Billy by the hand and strides off, practically dragging Billy

along. Red and Danny do their best fast walk too, Red’s elbows sticking out

and jerking up and down, Danny breaking into a trot now and then.

The laggards catch up with the rest of Ian’s group, who are standing around on

a river bluff, staring out at the river. Netty and Billy, still being towed

along behind Netty, arrive first, but instead of a welcome from the group,

they are ignored. No one turns to pay attention to them other than a quick

glance, then return to stare at the river. Danny and Red bring up the rear,

huffing and puffing and sweating slightly.

The group hears what sounds like music, various tones, the sound plastic

bottles make when filled with air and forced in close proximity to each other

in a net, or tied together. These tones are various, like some kind of drum

set composed of small plastic drums, almost tinkling rather than booming.

A series of houseboats are moored to the trees of a small island in the middle

of the slow-moving river. These are strung out in a line, a couple rafts

moored to the strong trees on the island, then other rafts moored to these, so

the lot stretches out along the center of the river.

Plastic bottles have been filled with air and either tied together or stuffed

into a net. These form a floatation device for plywood or rafts made of boards

crudely nailed together from the wreckage caused by the earthquakes and

hurricane force winds. The rafts are raised at least a foot out of the water,

more than enough floatation, the obvious consideration being that some of the

plastic bottles might fail, so more is better than less in this regard.

Some of the rafts have tents on them, some have one room structures made from

scrap lumber and tarps, and one is a two story rickety structure that looks

like it might fall over in a strong wind. Laundry is hung out to dry here and

there, on lines tied between boards nailed to the edges of the rafts and

whatever serves as the sleeping quarters in the center of the raft. Most of

the rafts have container gardens of some sort, plastic pots of various size

and colors, growing tomatoes or lettuce or chard.

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