The world took a dramatic turn for the worse in the weeks following Memorial Day. In retrospect it was the perfect storm: a new and more lethal strain of the virus that doctors were only beginning to recognize, having gained a foothold in major population centers around the world, against the backdrop of a world hell-bent on "reopening" over the holiday weekend after months of social distancing curbs, and after recent positive news regarding vaccine and treatment programs had created a widespread sense of optimism.
Many were still cautious and steered clear of risky activities; but enough fellow citizens eagerly filled beaches and bars, restaurants and stores, to allow the new strain to quickly spread in stealth, destroying any hope of containment or "flattening the curve." Much had been written in recent months about how it only takes a certain percentage of a population to be immune- through vaccination or surviving infection- for society to be protected by the holy grail of "herd immunity". What they didn't share was the opposing scenario- that it only requires a certain proportion of a population to be sick or killed by a pandemic like this for societies to collapse, with supply chains rendered inoperational and law and order defunct across the majority of the world. The threshold infection level to bring down modern society had decreased with globalization and was now at a surprisingly low percentage of the population, according to classified intelligence reports that only a few senior government officials had access to, and with the world fast approaching that threshold the imminent collapse of the civilization as we knew it would be rapid and merciless.
I had spent months monitoring chatter in online medical communities and reporting by well-placed intelligence analysts, and knew the time to evacuate was now. My ex-wife had taken the kids to her new lover's compound in New Zealand weeks ago, without so much as offering me the chance to say goodbye to the kids. I was happy that they were safe, of course, but disappointed that her contempt for me remained so strong even after she had hit the proverbial lottery by quickly landing a tech billionaire, rebounding quite nicely. After I caught word of her departure, I returned to our old house to gather my remaining valuables and possessions that were there, and finalize preparations for my evacuation.
Thankfully, I was well-prepared for such a crisis scenario. A decade earlier, with money I held in a private account from the IPO of a company I worked for years before, I secretly began developing a mountain compound a few hours away in the North Carolina mountains, on nearly 15,000 acres I accumulated over several purchases, adjacent to the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. The location was strategic, chosen for its size and isolation with no other human beings within at least 20 miles in any direction, and natural advantages such as an abundance of fresh water springs, land for farming, streams and small lakes stocked with trout, and a topography defined by a ring of imposing mountains enclosing a large, elevated valley hidden within. It also was in close proximity to my home- since I was conscious not just of risk from pandemics, but also catastrophic cyber-attacks on the technology grid and other threats, I wanted to be within driving distance from my home, not dependent on air travel or other means that might be unavailable.
Over the years I restored the historic buildings scattered across the property, including a half dozen small cabins, a barn located beside a cleared section of the valley blessed with rich river soil and ample sunlight during the growing season, and a small whiskey distillery which I had put to good use and now had several spirits aging within. I also built a new main house on the crest of a hill toward the back of the property, which from its front looked over the protected valley at the heart of the property, while its rear, westward-facing windows enjoyed a sunset view of the Smoky Mountains, and its 250,000 acres of unoccupied wilderness.
All of the structures were designed to be self-sufficient, enabling me to live off the grid in the event of crisis. In the large basement of the main house and the adjacent modern barn, I had stockpiled all of the materials I would need to subsist for years: pallets of food ranging from canned goods to MREs with a shelf life in the decades, medical supplies, clothing stores of all sizes and styles, household goods, assorted weaponry for defense, a seed bank, and of course a healthy supply of booze. If I was ever going to need to run for the hills to hide out while the world burned, I was sure as hell going to have a bourbon in my hand.
After packing, I poured myself a drink and had a seat on the back porch to enjoy the crisp night air and relax for a one final moment in the old house, reflecting on happy memories of married life and our children in years past. Tomorrow I would be waking early and departing before dawn, to begin day 1 of my new life in the mountains. I had been in touch with a few close friends and family members and was hopeful they might be able to meet me there, but as of yet nobody had taken me up on the offer, either refusing to recognize the severity of the situation, or because they already had plans with their own families. I sadly reflected on how I had long hoped to take my own family to the mountains, my kids safe with me and even designing one of the cabins with my ex-wife in mind (a courtesy she apparently didn't share), and wondered whether I would ever see my children again.
Suddenly I heard a noise and quickly recognized it to be a neighbor, more precisely the teenage daughter of the family next door. I cringed as I recalled how much I hated those neighbors, who had over the years annoyed me for every reason imaginable. They took no pride in their house or lawn, yet were comfortable complaining about any work I had done on my property. They were loud and obnoxious at all hours of the day, with television blasting through open windows, loud fights bellowing out for the entire neighborhood to hear, and a dog they left outside to bark incessantly at all hours of the day. A year prior the husband suddenly split and I hadn't seen him since, and now it was just a grumpy middle-aged woman, that barking dog, and their 18 year-old daughter Candice, who went by 'Candy'.
And now it was Candy talking loudly on her phone from the other side of the fence, unaware of my presence. I could hear every word as clearly as if she was standing beside me, and over the next few minutes I gathered the basics of her situation. Her mother had contracted COVID and was in the hospital, with doctors advising that she would be gone within the week. She hadn't been able to reach her deadbeat dad. Her boyfriend had evacuated with his family and wasn't returning her calls. And now here she was, apparently calling everyone in her contacts list, desperately trying to find a lifeline in the midst of the crisis. Call after call she was growing more frantic, but it was clear she didn't have anyone she was close enough with to make this kind of request, so while the rejections were usually clothed in plausible excuses ("we don't have room", "the person I'm staying with won't let me invite anyone else"), everyone ultimately rejected her pleas before wishing her well and saying goodbye. Finally, I heard her hang up and sit on the steps of her back porch, and it was quiet again, except for the sound of her crying softly to herself.
I felt a pang of sympathy, but also remembered how rude Candy had always been to me. In recent years she had gone from an aloof young girl who seemed unnaturally disinterested in having any kind of pleasant conversation with anyone around her, to a downright obnoxious woman who was only interested in her own selfish needs, and in fact seemed to take enjoyment from bothering others. She regularly blocked our driveway with her car, in spite of frequent requests not to do so. She left the dog out barking late into the night even after we explained that we had a baby sleeping. She was constantly hosting loud parties next door, bristling whenever any neighbor had the gall to ask her to keep the volume down. She routinely threw trash over the fence into our yard, was rude to our young children whenever she saw them, and could often be overheard bragging to her friends about how she enjoyed antagonizing us. Once I caught her stealing packages from our porch, and even after showing tremendous mercy and choosing not to involve the police, her apology was half-hearted and a week later I discovered a deep scratch in the side of our car; and though I couldn't prove it I knew full well who it was, a suspicion confirmed by the smug smile she flashed at me the next time I saw her, before flipping me the finger and walking away. I once heard her say to a friend- deliberately loud enough for the entire neighborhood to overhear: "Fuck them. If they have a problem with anything I do, fuck them and their stupid kids. I don't give a shit." The list goes on, and virtually everyone I knew in the neighborhood had a similar set of grievances, and despised her and her family to a similar degree.
My only consolation over the years with the inescapability of the situation was to revel in how pathetic her life was. As far as I could tell she had only a few friends and hardly any social life whatsoever. Her appearance was always frumpy and disheveled, and she appeared to lack any real talents or otherwise redeeming traits. She was currently in the midst of what she called a "gap year" after finishing high school, though as far as I could tell she was just sitting around her back yard doing nothing. I figured she was either too stupid to remember to apply to colleges, too stupid to get in, or too stupid to know that a "gap year" was meant to be spent doing something rewarding and valuable- traveling or pursuing a passion, or giving back to the world.
Finally, her parents had kept her virtually under lock and key for her entire life- I recall her father years ago saying that he would never allow her to have sex while she was under her roof. They chaperoned her to and from school and extracurriculars and she wasn't allowed to go to friends' houses; her parents instead insisting on everyone coming to their house instead, where they could keep a close eye on her (and where they bothered me with loud parties in the back yard until the morning hours every week). It baffled me why any high school boy would want to bother with a situation like that, all for a girl who was a "3" or "4" at best, but she did manage to have two boyfriends that I knew of, the first was a Fast and Furious wannabe who outraged the neighborhood by revving his engine and peeling out every time he entered or left our street, and the second was more recent, before apparently ghosting her and skipping town recently without so much as a goodbye, rejecting her calls ever since.
I chuckled to myself as I remembered how I disposed of the first boyfriend a year or two back in a moment of inspiration. I discreetly caught him one night on the way out of the house, first complimenting his car and making light conversation, before pivoting to commend him on his obvious values, as evidenced by dating someone he'll never be able to hook up with due to her idiot family. I mentioned that a guy like him, with an incredible car like that, could surely have his pick of any number of girls who would be happily sucking him off within days, and giving him sex anytime he wanted it within weeks. Like Candy's friend, the one with the dirty blonde hair and sexy ass who sometimes hung out with them at the house; I shared that I remembered overhearing her just last week talking about how cool he was, and how much his car turned her on. Anyway, I wanted to congratulate him on maintaining his principles in the face of such temptation, denying himself easy sexual gratification because of his platonic relationship with Candy. I wished him goodbye and he nodded, lost in distraction, and a week later I had killed two birds with one stone; he had ditched Candy for her friend, and there were now two less people in her sparse social group to annoy the neighborhood from her back yard. I smiled as I remembered the devious plan.
It was now getting late, and I shook my head and decided to let bygones be bygones, thinking to myself that I hope she finds a way to safety. I'd be in the mountains tomorrow and likely would never see her again, so I might as well let go of my old grievances and wish her well. I finished the last of my bourbon and went inside to get a few hours of sleep before the morning.
