Helen was leaning against a tree. A warm wind blew her hair back from her face. In her hand was a cold beer. In the background someone was watching TV. From the measured timing of the laughter Helen knew it was a sitcom but couldn't tell which one. In the sky, fireworks were going off. First small ones and then a big one that shook the tree.

Helen woke up and threw herself over Marly in a move so swift and instinctual that she was not even sure where she was. Whatever had exploded had quit doing it. Helen was more irritated with having her dream disturbed than she was alarmed by the explosion. It had been months since she had drunk a cold beer. Although she didn't miss TV much she missed the familiarity of it. She missed what it represented. Steady power, food out of a supermarket, rock and roll, sushi. Civilization.

Helen was interested in what the explosion might represent but had become used to hearing them come rumbling from the south. It was one of the reasons she had chosen to keep hiking north. Bad things kept coming from the south. Marly wiggled in her sleeping bag. Helen moved off and watched her for a moment. Marly's lips were moving in her sleep. Her face looked calm.

Helen looked around the campsite. They had been here for a week now and it was time to move on. She slithered out of her sleeping bag and had a sharp visceral desire for a hot bath. She picked some twigs out of her hair and pulled on her boots. She stirred the banked coals on the fire. Added some kindling and coaxed a flame. She picked up one of her multi purpose camping gizmos. It had a shovel on one end. She went to a spot under an Oregon grape bush and began to dig. Soon she had reached the top of a bucket and had the lid open. Inside was one of the several caches she had buried all around. There were others which she did not expect to be able to get too. There was fresh water, some power bars, vitamin C, Vitamin B, crackers, a jar of peanut butter and some hot chocolate. Along with ammo, a lighter, a flashlight, a knife and an emergency blanket.

She debated how much to bring with her and finally decided to take it all. The peanut butter was heavy but too good a source of protein to leave behind. She set up her camping grill over the fire and began to boil water for the hot chocolate. Too bad it was too early for the berries to be ripe on the Oregon grape. They would be good in the fall. Towards the east was an oak forest. She wished she knew how recently they had formed acorns since they only did it every other year. There was edible greenery all around her. Some was tastier than others. There were also medicinal herbs growing everywhere. Some of these she picked and stashed in a mesh bag. Usnea, a lichen which attached itself to the trees, was a powerful antifungal and antiseptic. It had been used for years to clear up congestion and internal and external infections. Helen grabbed a wad of it and stuck it in the sole of each boot to prevent fungus.

Marly was up now. "Morning sweetie." Said Helen and wrapped Marly's fingers around the little blue enamel camping mug.

An hour later Helen had packed up camp and was putting out the fire. She had a vague goal of moving towards the river. There was lots of food to be had both in the river and on the banks. There were also some small communities there which had been self-sufficient for years. Helen preferred to be self-reliant but knew that she would need other people eventually. It was all so risky. Going it alone was risky. Depending on others could be riskier still. That was partly why she carried the rifle. Just having one visible tended to make others more cooperative.

Marly chatted cheerfully. They talked about the plants all around them. The sorrel and the ferns, the stinging nettles. There were birds everywhere. They tromped through the forest with little concern until they heard the dogs barking. Helen tried to peer though the bush to see what the heck Fiji and Pele had treed. The dogs were at their most intimidating. Huddled at the base of a Fir was a lanky form wearing a green jacket. It had its arms over its head. Helen called the dogs and fingered her rifle in a meaningful way.

Peering up at her was a face which had grown up too fast. He was probably just 15 but looked as wary as any vet. "Stand up" said Helen. The boy stood slowly. His eyes darting from the dogs to the rifle and back again. "Put your hands up and turn around" The boy lifted his arms and turned reluctantly. Helen stuck the rifle point into the small of his back with one hand and searched him with the other. He didn't have much. A small pocket knife, some soggy matches, a rabbit's foot.

"What's your name?" said Helen. "Cedric" said the boy. "Sit down Cedric" said Helen and backed off but continued to point the rifle at him.

Cedric's story was ghastly and predictable. He had lived in Sac (Sacramento). His family was upper middle class. Mom was a bank manager. Dad worked in advertising selling spots for a radio station. Mom had held to the company line right till the end. After the bank had collapsed and she watched 23 years of savings vanish like cyber dustbunnies she sort of dropped out of life. Stopped caring how she looked. Stopped talking almost completely. Dad continued to go through the motions  as they all did. Scheduling appointments with clients. Behaving as though the collapse of the banking system was an unusual but reasonable event. This went on for about a week before the looting started. All that had been back in '99.

When the power went off the first time. It was no big deal. The second time it was interesting, but not alarming. Eventually the power went off and did not come back on. That was when the second wave of looting hit. Chaos reigned. When the waste water plant failed the shit really hit the fan  quite literally. Along with the walls, ceilings and floors as thousands of gallons of sewage responded to the sudden drop in pressure by back-flooding into homes all over the city. Shit was everywhere. The first wave of disease took thousands. Cedric's parents were among that first group of casualties. There was nothing Cedric could do but run. So run he did.

The only order in Sac was provided by the gangs who suddenly had real turf to protect. They ceased fighting with each other and turned the full force of their attention on eliminating police. Since few of the police patrolling these neighborhoods actually lived there they rarely stuck around. In fact emergency personnel were among the first to head for the hills. Many taking govt. property as they did so. No one attempted to stop them.

For a while there was plenty of food  that is if you were willing to step over rotted corpses and sewage to get to it. New epidemics sprung up overnight. Cedric took to wearing a cloth over his mouth and nose like an old time bandit. He boiled everything before he ate it unless it was in a can. Finally Cedric found an empty house on the outskirts of town. He holed up in the garage for most of February and March. There had been camping gear stashed there and so Cedric had been lucky enough to get a sleeping bag. Then one day fire roared through the neighborhood and left Cedric homeless once again.

Hiking north along the 5 for many days he finally ended up in the woods. He had done pretty well. Had been a boy scout as a kid and had never been too fussy about diet. Became pretty adept at catching small frogs and even an occasional mouse. A couple nights before meeting Helen he had run into a group of guys who had stripped him of his gear and left him with nothing but what he carried. They had offered to let him join them but they all had fresh swastika tattoos festering on their cheeks. Some of them didn't look like they were healing right. So Cedric declined and they took his stuff.

Cedric said they had been moving south east and so he headed north west. He figured they were far away by now and not much of a risk although there was no telling how many of those bands there might be. These guys had called themselves The Knights of the NWO Round Table. They were looking for the holy grail which to them meant blue-eyed blonde haired virgins with which to populate the master race. Not surprisingly, these were in short supply even pre TEOTWAWKI. Hence the seemingly impossible nature of their quest. If they had not been so dangerous they would have been comic. The thought of young Nazis with testosterone poisoning combing the land for blue eyed virgins made Helen shiver. She drew Marly closer to her.

Meanwhile, she had to decide what to do about Cedric and she had to come up with an answer to the deceptively simple question "What's your name?" She started to say Hel- and then bit the rest back. What was the point of cutting off all her hair and pretending to be a guy if she was going to call herself "Helen"? It was a detail she had not considered. Somehow in all the lists and plans she had gone over and over it had never occurred to her to figure out what to call herself. Having given up so much it was suddenly too much to give up her name as well. Her mind reeled as she tried to answer the most basic question of all. Who am I?

Luckily Cedric was perfectly happy to interpret her half answer as the whole truth and said "Hell? Hmm  well sure is appropriate. " Helen snapped out of her mind warp. Hel was the ancient Nordic Goddess of the underworld. Originally Hel was as much a guardian of riches as a collector of lost souls. Hel could be appealed to and asked favors of. Later Christian writers had chosen to use Hel's name as the land of dead sinners. Helen could do worse than be named after the queen of the underworld.

Helen did not have a lot of choice when it came to Cedric. She could keep with her and keep an eye on him or she could kill him. She could not leave him free to stalk her. He might be lying. He might be planning to try to steal her stuff. It was one of those many times that she would just have to rely on common sense and intuition. She decided to wait and see. The dogs wouldn't let him get too close anyway. She introduced Marly as "Marly" because it was a pretty gender neutral name. She didn't see any point in confusing Marly with a fake name. However it was one of those things she wished she had discussed with Marly before. They could have picked forest names together. Well there was still time for that later if Helen felt the need.

Helen put the rifle down with a low command to the dogs to "watch" she reached into her pocket and pulled out some crackers. She handed Cedric the crackers and a cup of water. "Your coming with us" she announced and Cedric shrugged. Together they began to hike north into deep green.

-- Story Teller (anonymous@for.now), June 14, 1999

Answers

For those of you that missed the first chapter along with my disclaimer see the thread listed below as Y2k chronicals - chapter 1 - The Horde.

I love the comments. Keep 'em coming

-- Story Teller (Anonymous@for.now), June 14, 1999.

A high quality read, Storyteller. Glad to see you've got your preps under control and can find the time to write. I, for one, am looking forward to further installments.

Anybody remember the several chapters of a story that was posted here late last year? It should be in the archives somewhere.

Hallyx

"If you want to connect with their conscious minds, smack them on the head with a two by four -- don't be subtle, write with a hammer."---Richard Reese

-- Hallyx (Hallyx@aol.com), June 14, 1999.

Yes Hallyx that would be the bagga sagga by Invar - a classic of contemporary fiction :) the other was by Leo, no?

-- Andy (2000EOD@prodigy.net), June 14, 1999.

No, Andy, neither of those. It was a several-chapter narrative of recovery in a small community after a level 8 +/- occurrence. The author's name was Bob or Robert something. Remember, now? Some of us old farts have trouble with stuff like this.

Hallyx

"They say that, when you get old, your mind is the first thing to go. I forget what the second thing is...."

-- Hallyx (Hallyx@aol.com), June 14, 1999.

Story Teller Great writing. I will keep track of the links if you keep writing Y2k chronicals - chapter1 - The Horde

April 2000.

Helen heard it approaching long before she could see anything. It was a dull dusty vibration. It filled her with asense of resignation that was beyond foreboding.

-- Brian (imager@home.com), June 14, 1999.

Y2k chronicals - chapter1 - The Horde

April 2000.

Helen heard it approaching long before she could see anything. It was a dull dusty vibration. It filled her with a sense of resignation that was beyond foreboding.

-- Brian (imager@home.com), June 14, 1999.

Hallyx,

yes I DO remember it now, went into a lot of detail on the aftermath of recovery, bartering, farming, entertainment etc. etc. - where is kevin when we need him :)

PS

If truth be told I found it a little depressing, If I ever devolved (evolved :) ) to a situation like that I would most surely miss my fast women and loose cars, my Guinness and my trips to Europe, libraries and curries, it would be the most monumental adjustment - OTOH no IRS!!! No Clinton!!! No No Spam !!!!!!!

later,

-- Andy (2000EOD@prodigy.net), June 14, 1999.

Great Story - hopefully more to come! Is this the reality that will be facing us in just a few short months?

-- Graham hyslop (Bob@ghoward-oxley.demon.co.uk), June 14, 1999.

Yes, a great story and writing style, reminds me a little of Lucifers' Hammer - keep 'em coming :)

-- Andy (2000EOD@prodigy.net), June 14, 1999.

Hallyx-

Would this be it?

http://www.greenspun.com/bboard/q-and-a-fetch-msg.tcl?msg_id=000Jtv

Part 2

http://www.greenspun.com/bboard/q-and-a-fetch-msg.tcl?msg_id=000JuP

by Robert Waldrop

Blessings...Mercy

-- Mercy (prepare@now.com), June 14, 1999.

This is great writing Story Teller, I'm glad that I get to read it before it hits the stands at 12.99$ US , 15.99$ Canada, thanks. I liked the concept of the new Knights of the NWO. That kind of insanity is the exact type of thing I'd expect to see in such a situation. Which is why I have a Master Plan and two backup Plans for bugging out. You can never be to careful when it comes to gang violence.

-- (oldyeller@sanfran.com), June 14, 1999.

Excellent, Story Teller, it's just that only one little short chapter a day isn't enough for any of us! Please pick up the pace. Seriously, thanks for the great read.

-- Roger (reading@home.today), June 14, 1999.

I look forward to more. Glad you are sharing this. Marcy

-- marcy sawyer (marcia@madnet.net), June 14, 1999.

Story Teller.....I stopped coming here daily...until you began to tell your story...this is a great read and thought provoking. THANK YOU!!!

-- quietly (quietly@lurking.com), June 14, 1999.

Story Teller:

Yes, write more! I wanna read about how Cedric saved Marley from the ravenous cougar and how they all were given safe sanctuary by Wild Zeke the Mountain Man after the volcano explosion.

-- Randolph (dinosaur@williams-net.com), June 14, 1999.

Thanks, Storyteller. It has been a long time since I have had the opportunity to read a bit of fiction. I am really enjoying it.

Randloph, does Zeke have an older brother?

-- marsh (armstrng@sisqtel.net), June 15, 1999.

Hey, please write more, I think that your stories are good, and we need more! I enjoyed reading them, and I think they are very plausible.

-- Crono (Crono@timesend.com), June 15, 1999.

marsh:

You'll have to read the rest of Story Teller's Y2K Chronicles to find out!

-- Randolph (dinosaur@williams-net.com), June 15, 1999.

This is good writing of a good story. Keep it coming! (Especially the bombs and guns.)

-- King of Spain (madrid@aol.com), June 15, 1999.

Story Teller,

I'm an avid reader. I find I'm lost in your story and then it ends! Looking forward to the next installment.

mb in NC

-- mb (mdbutler@coastalnet.com), June 15, 1999.