Free Waiting Out Winter by Kelli Owen

of their, now normal, day-to-day lives.
    A month ago, Nick had realized they were simply sitting around waiting to die. He knew when winter ended, so too would the reprieve from the flies. At the time it was mid-February, and in northern Wisconsin, the coldest part of winter. But they all knew what came next. First they would experience the false spring that could, if it got warm enough, bring flies back. That would be followed by anywhere from a few weeks to another month or two of winter, always including at least one blizzard, before true spring started poking its nose around. The flies were coming back. Nick could see it in their eyes; they just didn’t say it out loud. What they did acknowledge was the need for a plan.
    The plan was simple: find somewhere safe. The problem was, with no communications left, they didn’t know where safe was. Without the television or phones or radios, they didn’t know how far it had spread or how dangerous other communities had become. They knew nothing. They based their discussions on what they did know--the tiniest danger, which posed the biggest threat.
    “Even in Alaska they have a brief summer, and summer brings flies.” Jerry spoke from the kitchen as they discussed their options. He busied himself by making a list of their remaining provisions and another list of what they’d need to procure for their trip.
    “Equator jumping?” Jamie suggested. Nick answered her with a blank stare. “You know, we drive to wherever winter is. North in the fall, below the border in the spring.”
    “That’s a lot of traveling.” Nick tried to imagine the six of them packed into her SUV with all their supplies and provisions. “What about gas? We’d have to refuel, and that would mean getting out of the car.”
    “Extra gas tanks? Refueling only in cold climates?” She stared at the ground. “I don’t know.”
    “Oh hey, wait...” Jerry’s voice from the kitchen had something Nick hadn’t heard for months--hope--and Nick sat up as Jerry filled empty doorway. “You still have that trailer out behind the shed?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Not a problem then, and not a bad idea at all, Jamie.” He smiled and put down the pad of paper. “I’m going to need some things.”
    Nick knew exactly where he was going with this thought, and as it panned out, first vocally, then on paper, and finally in the act of scavenging gas tanks from anything nearby, he wasn’t sure he believed in the possibility. Could it really be that easy? Calculating the drive to be at least a week, and more likely two, each direction, he didn’t like their odds of having enough gas and food. But the plan had given hope to both his friend and his wife, and their renewed spirit was infectious, improving the demeanor of all three children, even though Emily wasn’t old enough to understand they’d been in a bad mood. Deciding he’d rather die happy than cranky, Nick didn’t voice his objections and went along with their plan. Any plan was better than giving up and waiting for death to return with the melting snow.
    Jerry spent the next three weeks welding a complex pile of tanks and tubes to each other and then the trailer, as he created a moving gas station for them. Jamie packed and shopped--if it could be called shopping when you take it for free from the homes of the dead. Nick busied himself by siphoning gas from the vehicles Jerry hadn’t taken the tanks from, Jerry promising to dump whatever gas was left in the generator into the tanks, as soon as he was done welding. The three of them walked in and out of the house without fear, certain there were no flies in the winter and therefore no danger. They were met with odd looks through curtains, faces pressed against barrier plastic to watch, and were sure to be the gossip of the neighborhood--if it could still be called gossip when confined to each household. Nick half expected other neighbors to inquire, if not join in on the escape plan. They did