I slept well at first, but my dreams were jumbled with my plans and they finally forced me awake. As I got up to pee, I looked outside and thought I saw something. When I carefully slid open the sliding glass door, a bevy of quail feeding in the garden took off. I thought, rather than try to go back to sleep, there was something I could do before everyone got up--hunt.

Quail season wasn't until the fall after the chicks had hatched and grown up. But the rules of hunting had changed. I got dressed in some heavy denim jeans and found my hunting boots. I also found my hunting vest with slots for shells and put that over my flannel shirt to fend off the early morning chill. I picked up my father's Browning 12gauge and filled my vest with birdshot shells. I also added a few slugs, in case I encountered something bigger, like a black tailed buck that would provide us with venison for a month. While I was doing that, I reminded myself to take Augie and others fishing for a larger take of seafood protein, too.

I had left the sliding glass door open and went back there to see if the quail had come back. I didn't see them, so I left through that door, quietly closed it and skirted around the house to the street and to the estate. I knew that behind it were thousands of acres of chaparral where I could find multiple targets in a hunt at dawn. It was still dark, but I could sense dawn coming.

As I passed the house, some of the dogs came out to greet me. But some were notably missing. They didn't make a sound except happy panting as they accepted my head rubs and licked my hands in appreciation. I was glad for that friendly welcome because I didn't want them barking and waking up Daphne. The dogs followed me as I walked past the pool and looked everywhere to see if I could see any game in the huge unkempt garden area that I hoped Daphne would help us restore.

Leaving the gate, I walked down the trail in the total darkness to see what had happened to the bodies. As I neared them, the dogs following began to whimper and return to the estate, leaving me alone as I came close. With my phone light, it was obvious that something larger than vultures had been eating them. Perhaps the missing dogs. But more likely, a mountain lion, coyotes, or even the very rare, California bear, re-introduced in recent years to areas like the reserve below.

I turned off the light and walked carefully away from the bodies with bare bones protruding from what was left of putrid rotting flesh. I tried not to step on any twigs as I gingerly made my way through the chaparral hoping to hear quail peeping or even rustling as they fed in the dark before dawn. I also scanned the camera on the landscape ahead in infrared mode where I would pick their warm bodies up, probably before I would hear them. I left it in record mode, too. A record if I shot any.

Gradually, the sun, while still behind the mountains to the east, began to light up the sky and the whole area below. While I still kept the phone scanning for warm bodies, I gradually could see better and possibly, spot one. It wasn't long before I saw something moving and the camera confirmed that it was a covey of about 20 birds. They were about 50 yards off but still within range.

I couldn't risk flushing them because it would be difficult to shoot any more than one or two on-the-fly. That was the way I did it to be fair to the birds all my hunting in the past. But like hunting out of season we were in a time of dire need for protein and I wanted to get as many birds as possible.

With my phone in my left hand and my shotgun held to my shoulder with only my right hand, I fired into the center of the covey, dropped my phone and fired off two more shots as the birds flushed and scattered. It looked like I hit some when I saw them falling. When I got there, I found I had shot five on the ground and two in the air. A couple of them were still trying to run, wounded, and I quickly grabbed them, wrung their necks and put them in the game bag.

Seven birds might seem like a lot, but it wasn't even enough for one meal for us. As I continued walking further, something moving to my right caught my eye and I saw the ears of a jack rabbit hopping above the brush. I waited until it got within range and then shot it in the head so I wouldn't harm the meat.

I knew that rabbits had parasites but thought that perhaps Martha would make a rabbit stew by thoroughly cooking that big guy. He might feed the whole crew for one meal. It was worth a try. I picked him up and put him in the game bag, too. It was getting heavy and getting very light out. I decided to head back home with what I had like slick and with the tongs select piece of brush and.

By that time, vultures were descending on the bodies. One flew right over me. I thought, What the heck. And shot him in the head directly over me. The bird fell like a rock and barely missed me. I didn't know if the vulture had been eating rotten flesh yet this morning or had fleas on its feathers, so I put on my hunting gloves. Holding the dead bird with my foot on its head and pulling on its legs with my left hand, with my hunting knife cut the bird's neck off at the body and left it there.

I had to hold the vulture up high and away from me while it bled out. I put a bit of strain on my right arm, but after a couple of minutes it was over, and only dripped after that. A couple of the dogs came back and licked the puddle of blood. Then, they followed me as I reentered the estate with my kill. I saw Daphne standing on the balcony from Barbara's room wearing nothing but a nearly transparent robe that left nothing to the imagination and was slightly open.

She yelled down, "What do you have there? I heard the shots, was a bit scared. Then… I saw you come through the gate…"

"Breakfast!" I yelled back.

"But isn't that a filthy vulture?"

"Sure is, but I'm going to find out if we can eat it."

"Eat it? No way… Why don't you come up here and I'll give you breakfast." Even at her distance, I believe I saw her winking at me.

"I'll have to take a rain check. I'll have to see if this bird is edible and clean the rabbit and quail I have for breakfast for everyone. You're welcome to come."

"There's still food in Barbara's refrigerator and freezer for me. But be sure to come and see me when you can. I'll be cleaning all the dust from this place that has settled in after she left. You won't believe it when you see it."

I would have answered her, but I was already out of sight passing by the side of the mansion in a hurry to get back to Martha's place and get all of my kill cleaned for the hungry crowd that would be gathering for the day's work.

As I expected, Martha, hearing the shots, was waiting for me when I arrived. A couple of the kids were awake and with her.

"Oh, Jehovah!" She shrieked. "Is that a vulture? What are you going to do with that filthy thing! "

"I'm going to see if it's edible. We need all the fresh protein we can get. I've got a jack rabbit and some quail that we can have for breakfast if you help me clean them. Can you get me that turkey frying pot that I saw in your kitchen and fill it with boiling water out back?"

She nodded and went back in the house while I went past the garage and around the house to the patio where there was a table that was suitable for cleaning what I shot. I put the vulture down on the pave stones while Regis, spooked at first by the vulture's appearance, sneaked in and sniffed, and then, licked some of the blood that was still trickling out of the hole where the neck had been.

I laid all of the quail out on the table and began skinning the rabbit. While his skin was soft and easy to remove, I never liked the smell of rabbit being cleaned and hoped that this big old male would taste better than he smelled while cleaning.

Martha and the kids came and went, first with the turkey frying pot and pails of boiling water. And, then, some rubber gloves used for cleaning and garden work, a plastic bag for entrails and a couple of very sharp knives. Once Martha had everything with us, she joined me and started skinning the quail. She encouraged the kids to watch us work and learn how to butcher wild game for cooking.

By that time, I had taken off my hunting gloves and put on some rubber gloves. Grabbed the vulture by the legs, and dropped it into the boiling water just long enough to make plucking the bird easier and kill any bacteria that may have been on the feathers and skin. I couldn't think of the use for those feathers, so I just put them out to dry in the sun and would put them in another plastic bag later when they dried in case they would become useful later.

After its feathers were off, the vulture was a pretty skinny bird, but weighed about 6 pounds. Maybe 4 pounds of edible meat--if it was edible? I quickly cut it up and cleaned each piece by dipping it into the boiling water with tongs that Martha had provided. Making sure there was no bacteria that survived. I put the pieces in a large pot and told Martha to boil them.

But first, I had to taste the bird to make sure that it tasted good enough to even boil. I cut off a piece of breast held steady with the tongs, went over to the gas range on the patio there and turned on a burner. Quickly cooked a piece of vulture to a golden brown and bit off a bit, while the kids watched with glee and Marsha winced as though I were eating poison. Maybe I was but I had to find out.

I was surprised that it tasted so good. "Tastes like chicken, only better, richer!"

The kids laughed out loud and Marsha was relieved. All of a sudden, the kids were yelling…

"Can I have some! Can I…!"

I decided to roast a drumstick for them. It was a little smaller than a turkey drumstick but much larger than a chicken's. It took a little longer to get golden brown and I made sure it was thoroughly cooked before I let the kids taste any. I cut off pieces with my knife and let it cool so they wouldn't burn themselves in their eagerness to try it. Even Martha reneged her earlier worry and smiled after she tasted some.

"Mmm… It does taste good. I think I'll boil that whole bunch to get the broth and have the meat fall off the bone for a rice and vulture hot dish that I will add some mushroom soup to. That probably will feed the whole crew, for now. Are you planning to bring more people into my kitchen? Her smile turned to a glare.

"I've been thinking about that. I want to save as many good people as I can from dying of thirst or starvation. But I can't strap you with the whole burden of the kids' schooling and cooking. I think I'll have to ask the family I just brought and others to start cooking for themselves and others as we try to figure out how to help as many people as possible survive beyond all the death that the pandemic brought and may still be bringing."

"So far, Wondah has been a big help with schooling. And Stephanie is a whiz in the kitchen. I'll have to tell her about this vulture. It seems bigger than the others. What is it?

"I saw them when we went to Mexico. It's a black vulture. They're bigger than the turkey vultures around here but smaller than the California Condor. They're not supposed to be here, but they may have migrated here in search of more territory as their numbers grew in recent years with all the death south of the border."

I thought for a moment, and then added, "I don't think we should kill anymore vultures for now. They are doing us a great service in getting rid of all these dead bodies. If their numbers increase because of all the food, a year from now or more, we may hunt them just to get enough meat for the table when other sources of food run out."

Martha sighed. "I see what you mean. I remember when we lived in Manhattan. Some of the poor ate those flying rats, pigeons." She turned up her nose.

"I've eaten them. At grandpa's farm. They were nesting in his barn and eating the grain he had for the animals. I shot some for him one day. He showed me how to clean them and wrap the breasts with bacon, so they wouldn't taste so strong. We have to get all the protein sources we can. I'm going to try seagulls next. We need to think creatively about protein if we are going to survive."

Everyone moved everything into the kitchen. Marsha decided to make a rabbit stew from the jackrabbit. Others were coming in for breakfast, while they did, she told me, "I'm out of fresh everything. Using powdered milk, egg powder, egg waffles, and some other substitutes for now. But it would be great to have a cow and some chickens so that we could have milk and eggs again."

I told her, "I'll see what I can do. Maybe get some goats."

I joined the others gathering around the table, ready to see what I had laid out for them to do that day. As usual, everyone was chatting while eating. I clicked my spoon on my coffee cup to get their attention.

"As you can see, I went hunting this morning and shot some quail, a jack rabbit and a black vulture that turned out to be quite tasty. So we have some fresh poultry to eat for now, but we need a lot more. I suggest that Augie and I and some others go down to the beach and see what we can catch or gather today. Fresh fish would be a welcome change in our diet. Any other suggestions?" 

"That sounds great." Derek said. "But I think we need to split up. Wondah and I have been making those calls and we got hold of some of the subcontractors. I've given them our address. Two families are desperate and willing to come here and work with us, but can't. Wondah and I want to go get the son of the plumber, Harry Hastings, we used to see on television. His name is Harry, Jr. He and his mother are the only ones left of their family. The mother, Francis, knows where all the plumbing supplies are in town and also knows the plumbing trade well, like her son. After running around looking for food and water, they ran out of gasoline.

"And one of our sheet rock contractors, Hector Lopez, his son and daughter, both teenagers, said they were raided by marauders and lost all the supplies they had gathered. Don't even have a vehicle. There are others, but we can wait to go get them or have them come to us. Someone needs to greet them."

Melody spoke up. "Derek, I'll do that. Stephanie and I can watch the monitors and welcome anyone that comes."

"I want Stephanie to ride shotgun with us in the back. We'll be going Into some bad neighborhoods." Derek looked concerned.

I interrupted, "Der is right. After their morning classes, Melissa and Flower can help you watch the monitors, Melody. I think it would be good for you to work with your daughter on this important task. We had better get going if we are going to do all we need to do today. Any more questions, concerns?"

Marsha had one. "I will need those two kids for an hour this morning to water and pull weeds if I'm going to keep ahead of the needs of our three large gardens."

"That's fine, you're in charge of them. I know you will give any newcomers a welcome, too. We'll probably be back by noon. Thanks everyone, as soon as we finish eating, let's go to work." 

We took my truck and it wasn't long before we reached the famous Santa Monica pier. On a normal early summer day it would be crowded with locals and tourists and the beaches on either side would be filled with the same as well as surfers on good days.

The pier was deserted. Except for the incessant cries of the gulls and the gentle lapping of collapsed waves on the beach, it was silent--no calliope music or crowd noise. But there was life as we grabbed our gear and bait and reached the end of the peer. A lone man out there, fishing.

I called out as we got closer… "Hello! It's good to see you! How's fishing going!"

He turned his attention from the water, dropped his pole, and started running to us. He ran up to me, grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously, declaring…

"Man! You guys are a sight for sore eyes! Thought that I wouldn't find any people here, but here you are! What's your name? I'm Ray Dugas. I'm from Iowa. Was a student at UC-Long Beach when this whole thing happened."

"I'm Drake Hutchings." I introduced him to the Palmer family. "We're from up in the euros just two miles from here. We need food, so we we're going to fish."

"Fishing's shitty… Ah… actually quite good without any other people around. But, you see that sign up there? I'm getting a lot of 1s and 0s and have to throw most of them back--too much mercury and PCBs. Deadly to eat"

We walked over to where he had a bucket for his catch. He had one jacksmelt, a California corbina and a surfperch. Providing, maybe, three meals.

"Yeah, Ray said. "Not much for fishing since sunrise. But I threw away some barred sand bass and rockfish because, since I've been here, all I've been eating is fish. Seagulls are really hard to snare. Only got a couple so far… They taste like fish, anyway." He turned up his nose.

"Anything else? Shellfish?"

"Yeah. There are mussels and clams on the piers and crabs. But I'm not much for swimming underwater."

We baited all of our lines from a bag of bird and rabbit entrails and threw them in the water. Rocky and Ginger already had their snorkeling equipment and spears and jumped into the water. Augie and I stood next to Ray at the rail, watching our lines and Ray was more than eager to talk to us. So we listened.

"When the pandemic hit, all hell broke loose at school. Nearly everyone left for home. After a couple of days, everyone was sick who stayed and the food sources on campus dried up. There was no going home for me. The gasoline clunker that got me here was on its last legs and I was afraid I wouldn't make it. Talking to my folks back on the farm, they told me things were just as bad there, and not to come until they told me. Haven't talked to them since. Afraid to.

"And then, I got sick and was lucky to have my girlfriend care for me until she got sick just as I was recovering. I drove her to her mother's place about 10 miles from campus, and her mother took her in. But later when I called, no one answered there. I got a bit anxious and drove over again. Going in the door, the smell hit me. They were all dead." Ray started crying…

I tried to console him. "I lost my parents and my sister. I know how you feel. But why did you come  here?"

Ray wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and continued. "When I first came I was a fisherman back home so on those holidays when everybody went home, I came here to fish. It's really different from freshwater fishing, but I caught on and enjoyed the people I met out here. Some even let me stay with them. But as you can see, nobody seems to be here now.

"One of the guys I stayed with was a longtime surfer and had a little beach bungalow right up there." Ray pointed to the place. So I went there first. There was no one home and there was some food and drink in the refrigerator, so that's where I've been staying. I've run through all that food and I'm about to go on a fish diet if I don't do something. I've been stealing water wherever I could find it, but that's running out, too. You guys seem prosperous. Do you have any greens? vegetables?"

"Yes, we've got three large gardens going." But all we've got with us is camp food and water, some fruit. I reached in my bag and handed him a mango. I could see from his face that Ray was glad to get it. We had some grain and nut bars, too. Gave him one to munch on while we fished.

We continued our conversation while catching fish. Unfortunately, we had to throw most of them back, giving me an idea that perhaps we could raise saltwater fish in our unused pools. But I didn't say anything to anyone about it.

It was about 11 o'clock and we had about 50 pounds of fish low in Mercury and PCBs when we heard Rocky yelling and running up to us. When he arrived, out of breath, he pointed up the beach and gasped…

"Can you see it? There, up the beach! That's a dolphin, a stranded dolphin, and it's alive!

Copyright 2023 © Ronald W. Hull

5/9/23