The following set of Real Revo posts are fictional. None of this happened.
May 12th, 0813: I got up early and drove up to Marv’s and laid on the horn. Marv came out and he didn’t look good. He told me Kent is sick. He has it. I felt like the elevator just dropped down the shaft. I got tunnel vision. I dropped to my knees. Marv must be a carrier after all because he doesn’t have it even though he said he was caring for my boy.
I asked how bad. It is bad. He is coughing and is having difficulty catching his breath. He is in pain all over. I wanted to so badly go in and see him but knew I couldn’t. I talk to Marv from the road and he said he would do his best to car for him. I had to leave. I couldn’t even take the meat from the heifer or the jars.
I went back to the house and grabbed one of the two FRS/GMRS radios I had been charging when the generator was running and drove back up to Marv’s. I left it out on the road for him to retrieve.
Marv took it in and I was able to talk to Kent. He had a difficult time responding without causing a coughing jag so it was pretty much one way. I told him I loved him, that I was sorry and that I would take the radio back to his wife and children immediately. I did. It was gut retching.
We have established a communications window at the top of the hour, every hour. Otherwise, the radios will be off to preserve battery power.
May 12th, 0922: Kent is strong. If anyone is going to survive this it will be Kent. We are all praying. When he makes it through, he will be immune and out of the woods. It will be behind him. I believe he will make it.
When he does recover, however, he won’t be able to come home. Not if he is still contagious. We have no way of knowing how long he will remain contagious. None at all. He will have to stay at Marv’s. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t make sense for us all to go up to Marv’s, one at a time, until we are all exposed. It would be a real relief. It isn’t going happen, however. I can’t take a 20% chance of killing my children and wife. We are just going have to tough this out.
May 12th, 0922: My boy is suffering. I can’t stand it. I am not going to be able to post for a while.
May 14th, 0741: It has been two days since my last post and I Kent is still with us. I am given to understand that, if he hasn’t succumbed by now, he will survive. Thank God. In fact, I think our prayers have been answered and he is improving. He was even able to speak with his wife for a couple of minutes. The anger I felt for Marv is abating. He has taken good care of my son and, for that, I am grateful.
May 14th, 0941: There are reports of riots in some of the larger cities and heavy handed force to put them down. St. Louis and Chicago seem particularly bad. All I have is the radio but it sounds pretty serious.
May 14th, 1325: Here we go. We just heard on the radio that, due to the disaster, the President has issued and executive order suspending aspects of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, and I am going by memory here, the right to Habeus Corpus, the right to trial, the right to free speech and the right to assembly. The order also gives various government departments control over all modes of transportation, the ports and all food resources and farms. It also said something about plans to mobilize civilians into work brigades under government supervision. There was other stuff too, I just can’t recall right now. It was an order that was supposed to expire in 180 days. We shall see. The talking head on the radio read it like she was reading the farm report and it was the most unremarkable thing she had ever heard.
It seems like bluster for now. I haven’t seen sign of any government since the National Guard troops I saw on the fist day. Well, I did see a group of five aircraft that looked and sounded like fighter jets leave contrails across the sky yesterday, I guess. They were too high to identify. Whatever the case, things are getting even more troubling.
It is another beautiful day here in farm country. The wife and kids are working in the garden. If the grass in my yard wasn’t a foot tall, you wouldn’t know a thing was wrong.Share