“It’s all right, honey,” she spoke. “It’s just static.”
The voice continued. And you will join us together at the headquarters of the New United States. We will rebuild! The voice was fevered.
Bee could practically see the crowd that would gather for this. She imagined it thousands strong and united. A small voice inside told her that this vision of unity was false but she squashed it, too desperate to listen.
On December 20th, the voice went on, we will be meeting any who want to apply where Highway 7 dead ends into Raccoon Road. Bring whatever supplies you have gathered. There are many of us here and our numbers are growing.
The speaker paused for dramatic effect. Silence filled the airwaves long enough that Bee thought they’d lost the signal.
Bee opened her mouth to say just that when the man spoke again.
Join our ranks. There is safety in numbers. It is the only hope of survival. That meeting place again is on December 20th at the T intersection of Raccoon Road and Highway 7. I hope to see you there. The radio let out another peal of static and Rodney shut it off.
“What do you ladies think?” he asked, expression pensive.
The bags beneath his eyes weren’t as prominent but Bee thought he could still use some rest. She had decided to ask what type of medication he was taking before they went anywhere. It would be a danger to them all if he had an emergency and Bee did not know how to help him. She’d been a candy striper in her youth and had completed half of her nursing school courses before she had to drop out. Her mother had become ill and Dad couldn’t support her medical bills on his income alone. Bee had gone to work for the local grocer, bagging items and carrying customer’s groceries to their cars. She worked her way up in the company and she managed that little store until she retired two years ago. Sometimes she missed the daily bustle of work but most days she was glad of the peace. Though there wasn’t much tranquility to be had these days that was for sure.
“Bee?” Louise asked, concern evident in her voice. “Are you all right?”
Rodney looked at her silently, eyebrows raised and a gentle smile on his lips.
Bee smiled faintly. “Sorry,” she spoke. “Just woolgathering.”
“That’s an occupation of the elderly,” Rodney spoke, eyes crinkling. “And you aren’t quite there yet.”
Bee laughed. “All right, old man,” she said, jesting. “What do you think we should do?” She couldn’t decide. The message over the radio had an ominous feel that she couldn’t quite place.
Rodney scratched his stubble covered chin. “I am of two minds on the subject,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I’m not sure that I trust these men, whoever they are. I’m also sure that the President they speak of isn’t our President Herald. But we certainly can’t abide here forever on our own.” There he stopped, looking pensive. His fingers whispered across the hair on his chin, loud in the silent kitchen.
“I think we should go to this meeting place,” Louise said, grinning like a fool. “They sound well organized and I don’t want to be out here alone anymore. It’s too dangerous.” She brushed the hair from her face.
“Okay,” Bee said, looking betwixt the two. “Let’s go then. I should be able to have us packed by tomorrow morning.” She turned to Rodney.
Louise began to smile then her face froze, lips halfway raised. The sparkle drained from her eyes and her hands fell to her sides.
“Oh, Good Lord,” Bee spoke exasperatedly and grabbed Louise’s cup to dump out her cooling coffee.
“Your friend sure does have some impeccable timing,” Rodney spoke. He leaned back in his chair and drank the dregs of his coffee.
Bee rinsed out the sink and sat again at the table. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she spoke, taking Rodney’s hand gently in her own.
He lifted his brow but said nothing.
“I know you don’t like to talk about your health,” she said, noticing with amusement that his expression hardened. “But as we’ll all be traveling together very soon, I need to know what type of medication you’re taking and what I should do if you have an attack of some sort.” Bee kept hold of his hand though he seemed inclined to pull away.
Rodney sighed, resigned. “I take Prozac. It’s an anxiety medication.” He looked ashamed.
Bee raised her hand to her breast. “Oh thank goodness,” she gasped. “I thought you had a heart condition.”
Rodney laughed. “No, thankfully.” He thumped himself on the chest. “My heart’s fine. Fit as a fiddle on my last check up.” He grinned.
Bee squeezed his hand, feeling stirrings low in her body that she hadn’t experienced in a long time. I wonder if he’s too old to rise to the occasion, Bee thought. She decided that if they got out of this alive and made it to the safety of a group, she just might seduce the old man. He wouldn’t know what hit him, she thought, smiling devilishly.
Rodney laughed again and pointed his finger at her, “You’re a pistol, Bee,” he said, grinning like an idiot. They held eye contact for a tension filled moment. He took back his hand and rose from the chair. “I’ll go collect what clothing I need,” he said. “Can you gather the dry goods and pack them up?”
“Sure,” Bee answered, glancing at Louise and frowning.
“When I’m done I’ll help you with her.”
“Thank
