Waiting for the Flood

                                            Waiting for the Flood
(Waiting for the Flood has been accepted by Leucrota Press for publication in the  anthology 'Abaculus')



         Oscar Alexi sat at his small kitchen table eating fried eggs and toast.  A morning breeze off the lake blew through the kitchen windows ruffling the sheer, lime green curtains on either side.  He sipped coffee while listening to the television news from the other room. 
         When finished with his breakfast, he reached for his pill box and opened the compartment marked ‘Wednesday’.  He dumped the pills into his hand and swallowed them down with a few ounces of orange juice.  Running his fingers through his thin white hair, he stood up, belching.
         He carried his dishes to the sink, and washed them as the television droned on in the background.  With the dishes dripping dry in the rack, he made his way to the living room.  He stood before the television for a minute, listening to the anchorwoman of a morning show talk about fashion.  He shook his head and shut her off.  Then he walked out the front door, the screen slamming behind him, and began his daily walk along the lakeshore.
         It was a clear morning.  A cool breeze lilted across the river rock and lime stone shoreline of Lake Winnebago.  As he passed by, Oscar noted the condition of his neighbors’ piers stretching out into the water.  He would also note the condition of his neighbors’ cottages and yards.  Oscar did not look after his neighbors’ property per some intrusiveness, but rather per a sense of neighborly responsibility.
         Most of his neighbors came to their cottages only for weekends in the summer, and for summer vacation.  Cottages were usually abandoned on weekdays.  So, Oscar took it upon himself to keep an eye on things while folks were gone.  There were only a handful of people, like Oscar, who resided by the lake year round.          
         About five cottages down, he saw John and Judy Schoene preparing their boat for a morning of fishing.  Oscar had known them for three years now.  They began living year round at the lake last year after they retired.  Most mornings they would be out on their boat and fish till about noon. 
         Oscar walked up the wooden pier to where John and Judy were launching.  “So, you gonna go catch my lunch?”
         John grinned.  “Let’s hope so.  We got skunked yesterday.  Not even a sheepshead.”          
         “Well, you’ll get ‘em today.  Bring back a walleye or a perch for me.”
         “Would you like to come with us Oscar?”  Judy asked.
         “No thanks.  I don’t go out on the water any more.  My fishing days are over.  I haven’t been in a boat since the accident.”  An uneasy silence ensued.  Oscar smiled as his eyes caught Judy’s.  “I plan to die by the lake, not in it.”
         John cleared his throat.  “Well, if you ever change your mind and want to come out with us sometime, you’re always welcome.”
         “Well, I do appreciate it, but….”
         “Oh my God!  Look!”  Judy interrupted pointing to the sky behind Oscar.  He turned looking skyward.  An enormous white and orange ball of fire leaving a black smoke trail behind it ripped through the clear blue Wisconsin morning.
         “It’s huge!”  John said in disbelief. 
         The three of them watched it fall over the horizon, out of sight.
         “Christ.  How big do you think that was?”  John asked.          
         “I don’t know.”  Oscar replied.  “In my seventy-eight years, I’ve never seen one that big.”
         “It must have hit the ground somewhere.  I hope no one got hurt.”  Judy said.
         “I think I’ll go turn on the news.  I’ll see you guys later.”  Oscar started down the pier.  He felt a little dizzy when he got to the shore.  The fear of having another stroke flashed through him.  He stopped to collect himself and quickly realized the ground was shaking.  The shaking grew more intense.  Oscar staggered forward as the earth lurched beneath him.  He lost his balance, falling in John and Judy’s front yard.  He laid prone covering his head as the quaking grew to crescendo.  The noise was deafening.  Finally it stopped, almost as quickly as it began.
         Oscar slowly rolled over and sat up.  A large oak tree leaned over him.  It was still rooted to the ground which had pushed up from beneath it.  He looked out at the lake.  A wall of rock and rubble had pushed up along the shoreline.  Oscar estimated the height of the wall varied from five to ten feet and stretched along the shoreline as far as he could see. 
         With a grunt he wrestled himself to his feet and set out to see if John and Judy were okay.  After a couple of steps he saw John’s head peek up from behind the limestone wall.
         “Oscar!”  John yelled.  “Are you okay?”
         “Yeah, I’m okay!  How are you guys?”
         “A little shaken, but we’re not hurt.”
         John climbed over the top of the wall.  Judy followed.  They met Oscar in front of their cottage.  The north wall had collapsed.
         “Son-of-a-bitch!”  John exclaimed.  “God damn it!  What the hell is going on around here?  We’re in Wisconsin for Christ’s sake!  We don’t have earthquakes!”
         Judy gasped at the site of their crumbling cottage and began to weep.
         “Actually we get them all of the time.”  Oscar stated.  “The Niagra fault line runs right along this side of the lake.  We always have earthquakes, we just never feel them.”
         “Yeah, well we felt this one.”
         “Do you think the falling star caused it?”  Judy sniffed.
         “I don’t know.”  Oscar replied.  Then an alarming thought crossed his mind.  “Do you guys have gas for your stove or anything?”
         John took a deep breath.  “No, we only have electric.”
         “Okay, I’m going to go check my cottage.  I’ll come back in a bit.  We should probably check on the neighbors’ cottages for gas leaks and water leaking.  We don’t need to be dealing with a fire, or septic tanks backing up.”
         John nodded slowly, staring at his broken cottage.  “Okay.  That’s a good thought.”
         “We should probably check on ‘Milwaukee Bob’ too.”  Judy suggested.
         Oscar felt increasing unease about his cottage and began walking home.  “I’ll be back in a bit.”
         Oscar cautiously made his way back to his cottage noting the change in terrain.  The rock wall continued to stretch along with no apparent end in sight.  A couple of trees were down, but fell harmlessly to the ground. 
         The cottages between Oscar’s and the Shoene’s did not seem to be damaged.  Oscar prayed his cottage still stood.  It was all he had.  He has been alone since his wife died.  Grounded optimism grew in him as he got closer.  Oscar was finally able to breath a sigh of relief when he saw his house still standing and evidently undamaged. 
                He walked through the screen door into the living room to find furniture tossed around.  The china hutch had tipped, landing face first.  The television had also fallen on its screen.  Broken glass covered the floor around it.
Oscar found the kitchen in better order.  The dishes he left to dry in the rack dumped to the floor.  He pushed the debris out of the way with his foot.  Little else seemed damaged.  Oscar crossed through the small kitchen sniffing for gas.  Confident there was no leak; he turned a dial on the front of the stove.  He half smiled as the starter clicked three times before blue and yellow flames sprayed out from the burner.  Turning it off, he side-stepped to the sink.  His hands simultaneously turned the hot and cold, but no water came through the faucet.  Reaching over to the side of the window, he flipped the switch to the light over the sink.  He sighed learning he had lost electric.  He crossed the room to the phone.  He lifted the receiver from the cradle and put it to his ear.  There was no dial tone.
         Without warning the ground began to shake again.  Oscar grabbed on
to the edge of the counter.  The low rumbling lasted only a few seconds.  “Just an aftershock,” he reminded himself out loud, wondering how many more were to come.
              Oscar bent down, reaching into the cabinet beneath the sink and fished out a flashlight.  He stood and slowly looked around the kitchen, then left to meet John and Judy.
              Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the water bubbling out from the top of the limestone rubble piled upon the beach before his cottage.  The water bubbled and serenely splashed down the rocks.  Oscar stood silently smiling at his new fountain.  It was beautiful.  Curiosity, however, overpowered him and he found himself carefully climbing the limestone to more closely investigate his new fountain.
Water gently splashed him as he reached the summit.  Oscar reached out and collected a palm full cool, clear water as it bubbled out from cracks in the rock.  Holding the water before his face, he could smell a hint of rotten eggs.  He knew then his well water was leaking up through the rocks.  There was sulfur in his well giving the water that particular odor.  Disappointed and satisfied to learn what had become of his water, Oscar descended the rubble and continued to John and Judy’s.
              The other cottages appeared structurally sound between his cottage and the Schoene’s.  However, starting at their cottage and proceeding north along the shore, they found cottages were more damaged, most of them severely.
Oscar did not see John and Judy when he returned to their front yard.  He walked around to the back finding them standing in the gravel driveway talking.
              “Hey O,” John asked, “how did you make out?”
              “I lost my water and electric, but the cottage held together.  I got lucky.  How bad is the damage to your place?”
              “It’s a total loss.”  Judy’s voice quivered, eyes watering. 
              “It’s not safe.  I think it could collapse at any minute.”  John added.
              “You can stay with me if you like.  I have a spare bedroom.”
              “Thanks Oscar.”
                A sky blue Bonneville approached, stirring up the gravel road leaving a cloud of dust in its wake.  The car pulled into the driveway abruptly stopping before the three neighbors.  ‘Milwaukee’ Bob got out from the driver’s side.  His t-shirt and blue jeans were speckled with blood.  He scratched his black bearded chin and gave a discreet wave as he walked over to them. 
                “Are you okay Bob?”  Judy asked.
                “Yeah, I’m all right.  How’s by youse guys?”
                “We’re okay.”
                “What happened Bob?”  Oscar asked pointing to the blood stains on Bob’s shirt.
                A sour expression crossed ‘Milwaukee’ Bob’s face.  He pursed his lips.  In a quivering voice he stated, “’Crazy’ George didn’t make it.”
                “What?”  John exclaimed.
                ‘Milwaukee’ Bob took a deep breath and swallowed.  “His cottage collapsed on him.  It took me about an hour to dig him out.”
              “Where is he?”  Oscar asked.
              ‘Milwaukee’ Bob motioned for them to follow.  He led the three to the back of the car and opened the trunk revealing George’s crushed and twisted body.  Oscar felt his stomach knot as he looked at ‘Crazy’ George’s face.  Ghastly pale.  Polk-a-dotted with blood.  Cold blank stare.  Purple lips.  Mouth open.  Judy covered her mouth with her hands, issuing a short shriek.
              “Jesus Christ, Bob!”  John exclaimed with twisted face, turning away from the car.  “You can’t just carry the poor bastard around in your trunk like that.”
              “What the hell was I supposed to do?  I can’t carry a dead guy in the front or back seat.  I mean, I love the guy and all, but I just couldn’t.”
              “Oh my God!”  Judy screamed.  “Look at his hand!  He’s moving!”
The three men stepped closer to the trunk to see ‘Crazy’ George’s right index and middle fingers twitching.
              “It’s probably some nerve that didn’t realize it was dead yet.”  Oscar suggested.
              “Maybe rigor mortis is causing the muscles to contract.”  ‘Milwaukee’ Bob offered.
              “I don’t know,” said John.  “This just doesn’t seem right.”
              ‘Crazy’ George blinked his eyes.
              “Jesus Christ!  George!  George, can you hear me?”  ‘Milwaukee’ Bob exclaimed.
              George rolled his head a bit.  A guttural low moan emanated from him, quickly growing louder and louder into a shriek.  ‘Milwaukee’ Bob slammed the trunk shut.  Taking short quick breaths he turned to the others.  They stared back at him, bewildered.  They stood motionless as they heard ‘Crazy’ George writhing in the trunk, pounding the inside.
                “I’ve got to get him to the hospital.”  ‘Milwaukee’ Bob said pulling the car keys from his front pants pocket.
         The others stepped back as Bob accelerated, spitting up gravel and dust behind him.  The three neighbors watched quietly as their friend quickly sped over the hill out of sight.
                Silence followed for a few moments until Oscar finally interrupted.  “Perhaps we should tend to the business at hand and make sure the area is safe.”
         
         A couple of hours later Oscar John and Judy were gathered in Oscar’s kitchen.  The three of them wedged in around the tiny table eating sandwiches and drinking beer.  They ate silently listening to news reports from the battery powered radio.
         They learned large meteors had crashed to the earth around the globe.  Earthquakes consequently erupted worldwide.  Many cities have been damaged.  There had been a tremendous loss of life.  This was a disaster unlike any before.
         Having finished eating and grown weary of listening to the reports of chaos and carnage, Oscar interrupted the radio.  “I just remembered something I wanted to show you guys.”  He motioned for John and Judy to follow.  Oscar led them outside to the spring cascading down the rock wall.
         “Oh, it’s beautiful.”  Said Judy as a smile stretched across her face.
         “Where is the water coming from?”  John asked as he began climbing up the side of the rubble.
         “That’s my well water.”
         “That’s too bad,” Judy commiserated, “but at least it’s pretty.”
         Oscar smiled and shook his head.
         John reached the top, took a handful of water and wiped his face.  He
looked out over the lake noticing it had receded.  There was ten to fifteen feet of exposed lake bed.  “Hey you guys!  Come up here!  You have to see this!”
         “What is it?”  Judy asked.
         “The lake is shrinking.”
         Judy and Oscar climbed up the side of the rubble wall as quickly as they could.  Upon it’s crest they looked out over the expanding rock and mud lake bed as the waters slowly retreated.  Oscar could feel his heart pounding in his throat.  He had lived his entire life by this lake.  The lake had been an unfailing part of his life.  And, even though five years ago his wife came to rest on the bottom, he still loved the lake.  As did his wife.  There was no better resting ground.  At least that was what she told him.  His eyes began to water as he watched a friend of seventy-eight years slowly slipping away. 
         “Where the hell is the water going?”  John wondered aloud.
         “I don’t know.”  Oscar choked.  “It just had to be a result of the earthquake.”
         Oscar retreated down the side of the rubble to his grassy yard.  He began weeping before he could reach the cottage door.
         Wiping his eyes, he made his way to the kitchen.  He retrieved a beer from the refrigerator, cracked it open, and sat at the table.  After a couple of swallows of warming beer, Oscar found the silence of his cottage unbearable and decided he would rather listen to the carnage reports on the radio.
         “…reports of Lake Michigan water levels dropping rapidly have been confirmed by officials both in Wisconsin and Michigan.  Now we are also getting reports of flooding taking place in northeastern Wisconsin into the U.P.  Although nothing has been confirmed at this time, an official, under the condition of anonymity, has speculated that the earthquakes have actually created a giant sinkhole, for lack of a better term, allowing Lake Michigan to drain into northeastern Wisconsin as well as western portions of the Michigan Upper Peninsula.  Evacuation efforts have begun in flooding areas.  Unfortunately though, emergency crews are stretched thin as there has been so much damage from these disasters.  At this time there is no way of predicting where or how much flooding will take place.  This is Chester Marcol reporting for Wisconsin Public Radio.”
         “You are listening to WFDL 94.3 fm.  Coming up in just a few minutes we have an interview with Marv Leitner, a professor of theology at St. Mary’s College.  Are we in the revelation?  Are the dead indeed rising from the grave?  He will share some theological perspectives with us as to why these events might be taking place.  But first….”
         Oscar jumped at the sound of the screen door slamming.  John and Judy filed into the kitchen.
         Oscar shook his head.  A tear rolled down his cheek.  Fear, uncertainty, and confusion were taking hold.  The fact was the certain future of yesterday was now gone, replaced by disaster and the unknown.  He wished his wife were still with him.  She always had strength and hope.  Always certain and smiling, even while cancer was eating her up.  Oscar sighed and swallowed, choking back a wave of tears swelling within him.  “Lake Michigan is Flooding into northern Wisconsin and the U.P.”
         “No.”  John gasped.
         “I’m afraid so.”  Oscar tipped his head back taking a deep swallow of beer.
         “My God.”  Judy said.  “What are they going to do?”
         “They’re trying to evacuate people as best they can.  But I’m afraid its going to be bad.”  Oscar replied.
         “Jesus Christ, what next?”  John asked as he cracked open a beer.
         “Don’t ask.”  Oscar sighed.  “Don’t ask.”

         Oscar woke up.  Eyes blinking, he yawned.  Then, with a groan he pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed.  He looked at his watch – 4:32 pm.  He had napped for half-an-hour still he felt tired and unrested.
         Walking stiffly to the kitchen, he ran his fingers through his thin white hair.  He found the radio still on, but neither John nor Judy was there.  Oscar pulled up a chair at the table.  He was only half listening to the radio as he wondered what to have for supper.  Then the radio grabbed his attention.          
         “…and indeed, everywhere.”
         “Doctor Pregger, there have been rumored reports of people who have recently died during these events have actually been coming back to life.  Is there any truth to this?  Or, have you seen any of this firsthand?”
         “I have not seen anything of that sort myself and I really cannot comment on it at this time….”
         Oscar thought of ‘Milwaukee’ Bob and ‘Crazy’ George.  He wondered how they were.  A picture of Bob driving frantically with George and his sickly white, blood splattered face writhing about in the trunk flashed through Oscar’s mind.  The sound of the screen door slamming shut erased that gruesome thought. 
         Judy walked into the kitchen with a bagful of groceries.  “Hey Oscar,” she set the bag on the counter.  “I’ll get supper started in a jiff.”
         “You read my mind.”  Oscar stood up.  “Do you need help with anything?”
         “No.  I’ve got it.”  Judy began pulling contents from the bag and organizing them on the counter.  “John said the lake is nearly empty.  He said he could only see a little water over toward the northwest side.  I guess you can see a few cars and shanties and snowmobiles that have gone through the ice during the winters.”
         Oscar quietly wondered how many bodies were at rest in the weeds and the mud of the lake’s floor.  Every year there were a couple of accidents and the lake would get dredged a few times.  And every year it seems at least one body is never found.  His wife, Ruth, fell victim to the lake.  Oscar would never forget that day.  It happened on September 24, 1994.  They were out fishing.  A storm was rolling in.  The wind picked up.  The waves grew to white caps and began pitching the boat.  Ruth was sitting in the bow, her hands grasping the gunwale.  Oscar had his back to her as he pulled the cord to start the outboard motor.  After three or four pulls it started.  He turned to the front of the boat to find Ruth gone.  Frantically he searched for her, the bow of the boat plowing through waves.  He drove the boat in ever widening circles but he was not able to find her.  Finally he conceded to the danger of his situation.  He got home as quickly as he could and notified the authorities.
         Police and rescue crews searched for her, but did not find her until the next day.  There was a noticeable wound on the back of her head.  Oscar became a ‘person of interest’ as the police repeatedly interviewed him while they investigated possible foul play.  In the end, however, they concluded the wound came from striking the side of the boat as she fell overboard.  There was no evidence tying Oscar to his wife’s death.  It was officially an accident.  Still, there were some who wondered about Oscar and what happened that day, especially a few who knew her cancer was terminal.
         Oscar always hoped she had been knocked unconscious when she went overboard.  It terrified and saddened him to think of her being conscious as she slipped beneath the waves, holding her breath, until finally gasping in cold water.  And now the alleged stories of the dead rising made him relieved he had her remains cremated.  That is no life after death, Oscar thought, wandering the earth on an unending quest for feeding a fathomless hunger.
         John walked into the kitchen.  “How are we doing?”
         “Okay I think.”  Judy replied.
         “Do you need help with anything, Hon?”
         “No. I’m okay.”
         “Walleye tonight, Oscar.”  John announced while pulling up a chair.  “The last I had in the freezer.  And from the looks of the lake, the last, period.
         Oscar turned his attention back to the radio.
         “… and the idea that the meteors causing the earthquakes were actually launched by aliens who are interested in conquering the earth?”
         “Yes, based on the events happening, I believe the earth is under attack from an alien race.  If you look at the series of events the evidence is quite strong.  First, there had been a dramatic increase in the number of reported crop circles from around the world in recent weeks.  Second, the fact the earth was hit with meteors in strategic places, along fault lines causing earthquakes, suggests intent.  One meteor striking a fault line I could understand.  But with dozens having struck simultaneously around the world stands to reason this was a deliberate attack.  Third, reports of the dead coming back to life indicates the invading force has the power of re-animating the dead in a way they are able to control them.  Why put your own people at risk when you could have an army of undead doing your dirty work for you?”
         “Oh, come on now, Doctor Burke.  I have not heard of one confirmed UFO sighting since this began.  Do you really expect our listeners to believe that aliens are bringing the dead back to life?” 
         “Now, you have to remember I never believed in this stuff before.  However, I found things like this to be true when I was covering that last coupe in Haiti.  I saw undead armies roaming through villages, killing and feeding on anyone they could lay their rotting hands on.  They were brought back to life by voodoo priests and….”
         Oscar shut off the radio.  “Can you believe this…”  He shook a finger at the radio.  “This crap?”
         “I don’t know.”  John swallowed.  “I just remember seeing ‘Crazy’ George in the back of Bob’s trunk.  That scared the fire out of me.”
         Oscar stood up and started for the refrigerator.  “I’ve always considered myself a practical sort.  I’m not one to ignore different ideas, but I really think this whole UFO thing is nonsense.”  He opened the refrigerator door and took out three heavily sweating cans of beer.  He set one on the counter by Judy, handed another to John and returned to his chair while opening the can in his hands.  “Besides, this is all speculation.  I would like to hear some real news.  How is the flooding?  What’s going on in cities?  That sort of thing.”
         “Yeah.”  Judy started as she began pan frying the fish.  “I’m sure we’ll find out.  If they’re not reporting anything then there is probably nothing to report.”  She smiled to Oscar over her shoulder.  “No news is good news, right?” 
         “That may be.  But I’ll believe the theologist who was on earlier that said we are in the Revelation before I’ll believe the UFO stories.”
         The three remained silent in the kitchen.  Sipping warm beer until supper was ready.  After they finished eating they decided to collect containers and retrieve water from the spring.
         John climbed to the top and began filling the containers.  With a full container in each hand he turned to back down the rubble wall.  As he went he looked out over the lake bed.  He could see the lights of Oshkosh and Appleton faintly twinkling in the hot pink dusk.  Several dark clouds plumed from the cities, rising high into the oncoming night.  A chill danced up his spine and the skin on his back and arms turned to goose pimples as he noticed the water appeared to be slowly returning.  John scampered down the side of the rubble spilling water on himself.  He landed recklessly, nearly falling into the outreached arms of Oscar and Judy.
         “What’s wrong?”  Judy asked.
         “It looks like the lake is refilling.”
         Alarms went off in Oscar’s head.  A crazy itch shot through his stomach.  “Oh, shit.”  He said slowly as a realization took hold.  “That must be Lake Michigan.”
         “How much of the lake refilled?”  Judy asked John.  “Do you think it will reach us here?”
         “We’ll find out.”  John replied as he started back inside to boil water.
         Oscar entered the living room with a candle in one hand and a six pack of warm beer in the other.  John and Judy sat on the couch.  The radio was on, detailing the events of the day from around the state, country and world.  Candles which Oscar usually reserved for autumn and winter were scattered throughout the living room.  The soft light gave the room a warm glow with scents of cinnamon, apple and vanilla.  Oscar handed each of them a beer and took a seat on the chair next to the couch.
         “They say the water continues to rise.”  John said softly.
         Oscar responded by opening a beer and gulping a mouthful.
         “I think we should leave in the morning.”  John paused for Oscar’s response, but Oscar remained stone faced and silent.  John continued.  “Judy and I have been talking and we think it would be best if we all went to town.  It’s on higher ground.  It should be safer.”
         Oscar stared off.  His face was gaunt and tired.  He nodded slowly at John’s words.  “You two leave if you want.  I understand, but I’m going to stay.”
         “Oh, come on now, Oscar.”  Judy said firmly.  “The place will be flooded tomorrow night.  Come to town with us.  You’ll be safe.”
         “Now look,” Oscar turned to them speaking deliberately.  “I have lived my entire life here.  I was born here, and I plan to die here.”  Oscar sipped his beer and relaxed in his chair.
         “I thought you said you ‘plan to die by the lake and not in it.’”  John reminded him.
         Silence reigned for a few moments before Oscar replied.  “I guess if you have to go there is no better way to die than in the embrace of an old friend.”  Oscar looked over to them.  “Besides, we don’t know that the water will reach us.”
         “Suit yourself.”  John replied.  “But you know you’re welcome with us if you change your mind.”
         Judy shook her head slowly, with a scowl on her face.  She thought Oscar was being foolish.  And she couldn’t believe her husband would give up so easily on trying to convince Oscar to come along.  She opened her mouth to let them both know what she thought, but held her tongue at the last moment, realizing she had to respect Oscar’s decision.  It was one only he could make for himself.

         Oscar woke up.  He looked at his watch – 7:02 am.  He could hear John and Judy moving about in the kitchen.  After a yawn and a stretch he heaved himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.  Then he got up, got dressed and went to the kitchen to find Judy boiling water.  “Good morning Oscar.”  She greeted.
         “Good morning.”
         “I found some instant coffee.  Would you like some?”
         “That would be nice.  Thank you.”
         “The water will be ready in a minute.”
         Oscar sat at the table.  Leaning forward, he grabbed his plastic pill box.  He held it in his hands for a minute silently looking at it.  Then, without opening the lid marked ‘Thursday’ he put the box back.
         John entered the room.  “Good morning Oscar.”
         “Good morning.”
         “We’re all set to go.”  John said as he pulled up a chair next to Oscar.  “Of course, it’s not like we have much of anything to pack anymore.”
         “Never mind, we’ll get a lot of that stuff back.”  Judy said as she set cups of coffee before Oscar and John.  “The most important thing is that none of us were hurt.  We’re all lucky not to have wound up like ‘Crazy’ George.”
         The two men silently nodded in agreement.  Silence continued to dominate the room as the three drank their coffee.  Finally, when finished, John stood up.  “Shall we get going Judy?”
         “Yes, of course.”  She took a last sip.
         Oscar stood up.  “I’ll see you out.”
         “It’s okay.  You don’t have to.”  John said.  “I want to thank you for everything Oscar.  When we get to town we’ll let the authorities know you’re here.”
         “And we’ll come check on you as soon as we can.”  Judy added.  She hugged Oscar.  “Take care.  And thanks for letting us stay with you.”
         “My pleasure,” Oscar replied.  “Have a safe trip.”
         With that said, John and Judy walked out the back door.  Oscar sat at his kitchen table in silence.  He heard the car start, then the popping of the gravel, the ping in the wheel wells, as the car rolled out of his drive. 
         After a few minutes Oscar stood up.  He figured he had better collect some more water and begin boiling it now, so he would have clean water later when he wanted it.  After grabbing the water containers he walked out the front screen door letting it smack shut behind him.
         Oscar made his way to the rubble wall and began climbing.  With a groan he pulled himself to the precipice and stood looking out over the lake.  The water was to the foot of the rubble wall.  There was no way to tell if the water was still rising.  He made a mental note of the waters height, then turned his attention to the spring.  After filling the containers, Oscar carefully descended the wall.  He began back to the cottage when suddenly he felt dizzy again.
              “Oh God, not another earthquake!”  He pleaded.  Then a sharp stabbing pain struck through the back of his head.  Oscar winced, dropping the water, grabbing the back of his head.  He fell forward, unconscious before he hit the ground.
         Oscar woke to find himself in darkness.  Not dark of night, but abysmal pitch black.  He was numb, cold and unable to move.  There were no lights, no stars, no sound.  Hours seemed to pass as he lay there trying to yell for help.  Finally he saw a light above him.  It was a tiny light, like a firefly glowing constantly above him.  Oscar watched as the light appeared to be growing.  Larger and larger the light grew.  Oscar could not tell if the light was growing or descending upon him.  Aching pain began to creep through his body.  As the light grew more brilliant the pain became more intense.  The light continued to grow brighter and larger until it completely enveloped Oscar.  As the brilliant white light began to blind him, the pain became excruciating.  He lay writhing in pain as the light enveloped him even more intensely.  His body racked in agony, he arched his back.  His lips slid wide exposing his gnashed teeth as if tetanus gripped him.  The light drove through him making the pain even more intense.  Still he held silent during his rebirth until finally he could take no more.  A guttural moan belched from his gut rising to a banshee shriek.           
         Oscar opened his eyes and sat up.  He was cold as the ground he was lying on.  He looked around.  His right pupil was blown.  By the position of the sun he could tell it was mid-afternoon.  Water was trickling over the top of the rubble wall as the lake continued to rise.  Slowly pushing himself to his feet he began a limping gait.  The overwhelming, seemingly insatiable desire to chew raw flesh beckoned him in the direction of town.  There, he knew he would join others like him, where they would descend upon the town with the night and frantically feed upon the living.