The Great Silence by Emery C. Walters

Author:Emery C. Walters [Walters, Emery C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2018-07-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

I must have slept in, for when I got downstairs the next day, my two housemates were cooking breakfast. Cooking, yes, and the lights on, and my alarm clock had still worked. Only static came from the radio, however. As I walked into the kitchen, I heard Burk.

“When it’s safer, we’ll hike over to Good Vibrations and get you a dick.”

“I—what?”

I felt like asking the same thing, but instead, all I did was yawn. “Maybe find a motorcycle or a couple of bicycles. That’s a bit of a trek.” I knew what store he was talking about, but it was obvious Mac did not. Why she—shit—he should have heard of an adult toy store yet, I don’t know, but I wouldn’t mind a trip there myself. Unless the real thing started creeping into my bedroom at night, and I’m sure if I felt that need, then my much younger housemate must be even worse off than me.

Mac asked, “‘Good Vibrations’? What do they…oh. Oh! Sure, yeah, sounds like fun, right after the cathedral, right?”

As I sat down to pancakes and bacon, I said, “Let’s get some camp stoves and propane, too, and extend our hot breakfast season for as long as we can. Hey, has anyone ever raised chickens, if there still are any? I’ve seen plenty of birds, but with this thing, you just never know. Some fine day, we’ll have to talk about moving to a farm in the countryside, or farther south where it might be warmer or safer. Where would we even find chickens here in the city? Is it even safe to travel, or am I just thinking worst-case scenario here?”

“Worst-case scenario would be when we run out of bacon,” Burk said.

It was a toss-up who was the most emotional of the three of us, though I didn’t really consider myself in the running for either first or second place. Mac might be better if we could get his hormones regulated. I hope he knew what he needed because I had no clue, and any information on the Internet might soon be out of reach, or already was. All that work, all those contacts, all that accessibility right at our fingertips. I was old enough to enjoy and appreciate what I could about it, but these two youngsters, my kids, sort of, had no clue. Had they even been inside a real library? Which reminded me, the library. Had the big one downtown been hit by anything? Were the homeless still camping out near it, or had they now their choice of empty homes to move into? I’d really like to meet this guy who was burying people as he came across them; he sounded like a sensible, and kind, person, who was thinking of the future as well. Like me and chickens.

Mac tapped her fork on her glass. His fork, his glass, goshdarnit. I’d been doing it again! His glass. He (he, see I can do it), cast side eyes at me and

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