by Lucin, David
Again, Jenn examined the pharmacy’s interior for movement or any signs of the vandals. From this close, she made out more details than before, but it was still dark. Her memory filled in some of the gaps. Like an island, the cashier’s till stood in the middle of the store. Along the walls on the right and left and behind the till were shelves stocked with painkillers, over-the-counter drugs, Band-Aids, tampons, and so on. On the floor lived the larger merchandise such as the wheelchairs and walkers.
But no movement.
Confident the store was empty, Jenn sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and hopped inside. She landed with a crunch as her shoes hit the sea of broken glass strewn across the floor. Her feet almost slipped on it, and she threw her arms out to keep balanced.
Her sudden entrance could have brought the vandals out of hiding, so she scanned the shop again. Satisfied she was alone, she wiped her palms on her jeans and made her way toward the till. Glass crunched beneath her runners with each step. The few times she’d come here with Gary, Carla or one of her staff always went into the back storeroom to fill Maria’s tanks. She assumed Carla kept her mobile compressors and the batteries in there, too.
“Place looks empty!” Jenn called to Sam and Gary.
“Put your hands where I can see them!” commanded a woman’s voice.
Jenn’s heart skipped a beat and she froze mid-stride. That order meant one thing: someone had a gun on her. She brought her hands above her waist but didn’t dare turn her head or move another muscle. She even held her breath.
“Keep them up, palms open, and face this way.”
Jenn complied, careful not to make any sudden movements.
She turned and caught sight of an African-American woman standing behind the till, a shotgun in her hands and pointed straight at Jenn. Carla. She wore the white lab coat her staff used as a uniform. Her curly black hair was longer than Jenn remembered, and it hung below her shoulders. The barrel of the gun remained level and steady. She’d shoot if Jenn made a mistake.
“Carla,” Gary said softly from outside. “Carla, it’s Gary Ruiz. It’s okay. Jenn’s with me.”
Carla kept the shotgun up and refused to take her eyes off Jenn. “Gary, why’s she breaking into my store?”
Gary didn’t respond. Jenn doubted he had a good answer. Neither did she, but she tried to reason with Carla anyway. “We’re here for an oxygen compressor,” she said plainly. “A battery-powered one.”
“I’m closed,” Carla said.
“I know, but—”
“Gary, you best get her out of here before I fill her with double-aught buck.”
Jenn swallowed. Carla kept the shotgun steady, but she blinked hard.
“No problem, Carla,” Gary said. “Come on out, Jenn.”
Jenn considered Gary’s Glock. He’d brought it with him, and part of her wondered why he hadn’t turned it on Carla yet. If he did, maybe she’d give in and they could find what they’d come for. The rest of her, the bigger part, pictured Carla pulling the trigger. “I’m leaving,” Jenn said, then took a big step away.
Her knees shook as glass crunched beneath her feet again, telling her she was close to the window. Carla stepped out from behind the till. Her arms still up, Jenn looked at Gary and Sam. Both stood outside, their hands at their sides and their palms open.
Gary crept forward and broke the silence. “Carla, we’re here to ask for your help. That’s all. You remember my wife, Maria, right?”
Carla remained stone still. “Yes.”
“Her oxygen compressor’s down.” Gary stopped at the sidewalk, his hands still up. “It needs power and won’t work. She’s using tanks, but I’m afraid they’ll only last a couple days. If the power doesn’t come on by then, we might be in trouble. We’re hoping you can help us.”
Jenn reached the windows and couldn’t back up any farther. To leave Carla’s store, she’d have to hop outside. She didn’t want to make any sudden movements, though, and the gun seemed lower than it had before Gary started talking. Maybe he was getting through to her, so Jenn paused and let the conversation unfold.
“Okay,” Carla began, trying in vain to suppress a yawn, “but that doesn’t explain what she’s doing in my store when I’m clearly not open.”
Gary didn’t hesitate. “That’s my fault. We saw your window was broken and thought you might be in trouble. I asked Jenn to go in and see if everything was okay. Sorry we didn’t try letting you know we were here.”
Carla’s arms relaxed a little, and her shoulders fell.
“Listen,” Gary continued. “You mind if we come in and talk? It’s been a rough twenty-four hours, but we need to stick together and help each other.”
Carla’s eyes wandered toward Gary, the first time she’d taken them off Jenn since this ordeal began. “I assume an ex-cop like you is armed.”
“I am. I’m happy to let you take it if we can come inside.”
Carla seemed to mull that over for a moment. Then she lowered the gun. “No, it’s fine. But no funny business. I’m choosing to trust you because everyone in this town seems to like you and because you’ve been a regular for a while now.” She went to the front door, unlocked it, and pushed it open. Gary came in first. Sam followed. He was as stiff as a board and his face was whiter than usual.
Jenn unclenched her jaw as she stood next to Carla and Gary at the till.
“What happened to your window?” Gary asked. “Is everyone okay?”
Carla, the shotgun at her side, leaned against the counter. “Yeah, yeah. Everyone’s fine. I was the only one here. Damn junkies came by last night, probably looking for drugs. I don’t remember what time it was. After midnight. They threw a brick straight through the window without any warning at all. Must’ve known my alarm wouldn’t work. Anyway, I guess I was asleep at the till, but the crash woke me up. I fired at one of them. Missed, but it worked all the same. They ran off and left me alone. I haven’t slept much since then. I think I was dozing when you showed up. Scared me half to death.”
“Sorry about that,” Gary said. “Glad everything’s okay.”
Carla, evidently trusting Gary enough to lay the shotgun on the till, rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Yeah, I’m fine. Police aren’t any help. They hardly come downtown anymore, so I guess it’s up to me.”
“Good thing you’re prepared,” Gary continued. “And keeping things in order.”
Jenn understood that Gary was waiting to broach the issue of the oxygen compressor while making Carla feel safe with him first. But they couldn’t spend the whole morning avoiding it, not with the clock on her parents ticking. Jenn needed to expedite this process so she could drive to them in Phoenix. “So, as Gary mentioned,” she started, trying to keep her tone even and respectful, “we hoped you could help. You have those battery-powered compressors, right? The ones you rent out to travelers and stuff?”
Carla fixed her eyes on Gary and spoke to him like Jenn was a ghost. “I have three of them and a dozen or so batteries in the stock room. They’re charged but weren’t plugged in, so whatever the hell fried everything yesterday didn’t wreck them. But as I said, I’m closed.”
“Yeah—” Jenn said, but Gary cut her off.
“We don’t want to intrude, but one of those compressors and some batteries would be a big help to us.”
“And how are you planning to pay for them?” Carla asked. “My computers are down and I can’t give them to you for free. I’ve had enough trouble making ends meet and now I have to replace that window.”
Carla’s bluntness hit Jenn like a punch to the gut. Sam crinkled his nose up in disgust. Maria needed that compressor and some batteries—her life depended on it—but Carla asked Gary for money as if that was all that mattered and it was the bottom line. Did she think the power would come on tomorrow? The next day? The EMP, the bombs, Maria—it all dwarfed Carla’s petty concerns about profit and her window. She’d spent so long living for her shop that she refused to see past its front doors, and it made
Jenn sick. She wanted to lash out but bit her tongue. Carla wouldn’t even look at her, let alone listen. They had to play Carla’s game so Maria could breathe, and Gary could play it better than Jenn, so she waited for his response.
“Can we take them on credit?” he asked, seemingly unfazed by Carla’s callousness.
“Nope.” She laid a finger on the stock of her shotgun. “I don’t know if you’re good for it.”
Jenn sensed Carla was losing patience and maybe trust. If they kept pressuring her without giving her what she wanted, she might pick up that gun and encourage everyone to leave. But what could they offer her? Jenn couldn’t remember the last time she had any cash, and she doubted Sam did, either. Gary probably had some, but not enough to cover what they needed.
“My car,” Gary said.
Jenn dropped her jaw and stared at him.
Carla perked up. Gary had finally spoken her language. “Are you still driving that Kia?” she asked.
“I am.” He reached into his pocket and found his keys. “Take it as collateral. If the power comes on and I can’t pay, you keep it. If I can, I get it back.”
“It’s working?” Carla asked, a finger on her chin. “I’ve seen a few dead ones in the street.”
“We drove it here.” Gary turned his body and pointed outside. “There it is. Right over there.”
Jenn couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap Gary or hug him. She didn’t expect him to offer Carla his car, of all things. It certainly cost far more than an oxygen compressor and a few batteries. Plus, he took pride in that thing. He spent his Saturday afternoons waxing the paint, detailing the interior, and doing whatever else men did with their cars. He loved it.
But he loved Maria more, and he wasn’t stupid. He knew as well as Jenn that this blackout wouldn’t end tomorrow or even in a week or a month. Carla’s singular focus hid that reality from her. Without power to charge it, Gary’s Kia was a hunk of metal and little else. And Maria, without oxygen, was as good as dead. No, his choice was the obvious one—the only one.
Carla held out her hands. “Deal.”
Gary tossed her his keys.
She twirled them on her index finger. “So one compressor and batteries. How many do you need?”
“All of them,” Jenn said. “We’ll take as many as we can.”
Carla pulled her own set of keys from her pocket and headed for the rear of the store. “As I said, I have a dozen or so, but if you find some working solar somewhere, you should be able to charge them. Just remember”—she stopped and faced Gary—“if you can’t pay for them when the power comes back on, I’m keeping that car. As far as I’m concerned, it’s mine until you settle up.”
Gary nodded. “I understand.”
Sam squeezed Jenn’s arm. “I’ll grab the wheelbarrow.”
9
Jenn loaded the last of the batteries—eleven in total—into the wheelbarrow. Carla hadn’t helped. She took a seat behind the cashier’s till and leafed through some papers. At one point, during her third trip to the storeroom, Jenn caught Carla with her feet on the desk.
Outside, Sam, his T-shirt soaked through, wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Jenn’s armpits felt damp, and she regretted choosing jeans again today, but at least her clothes were clean. Sam wore the same shirt and pants as yesterday, and it smelled like it.
“That it?” Sam asked.
“Yep, we cleared her out,” Jenn said, then lowered her voice. “Should we say bye?”
Sam grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow. “I think she’s good.”
“Nice of her to help out.”
Gary came over and eyed Sam. “You’ve got that?”
The question sounded straightforward, but Jenn inferred its subtext from Gary’s emphasis on you. She assumed Sam did, too.
Sam’s eyes met Jenn’s and he clenched his jaw. “It’s no problem.”
“Okay. Let me know if you need to trade off,” Gary said. Sam scowled and lifted the wheelbarrow. At first, he struggled to keep it straight. It came close to tipping, but he straightened it with a quick jerk to his left. Picking up his pace, he leveled it out. Gary smirked but allowed Sam to carry on.
Fewer than ten steps later, Sam set the wheelbarrow down.
“I’ll take it,” Gary offered.
Sam threw up a hand to keep Gary back. “I’m good.” Then, after a moment, “We should take my car.”
“No,” Jenn said reflexively. “We need to save your charge.”
“We’d have to go by Mr. Ruiz’s house to get your stuff anyway. It’s only a few blocks out of the way.”
Jenn hadn’t thought about that. Letting Sam use the Tesla now might encourage him to take it everywhere, but the sooner they could bring this compressor and these batteries to Maria, the better. “Okay,” she conceded. “Let’s do it.”
“Good plan,” Gary said. “I hope you don’t mind, Sam.”
“Not at all. Happy to help.”
“What’s the best way to get to the parking garage at school?” Jenn asked.
Gary pinched the corner of his mustache. “Beaver, I think. That should lead us straight to the college. If we take our next right, it’s one block over.”
With a wave, Gary moved ahead of Sam and led them down Leroux.
“I can’t believe you gave your car to Carla,” Jenn said to Gary as they neared the hatchback they’d driven past on the way here. “Well, I can. But that was pretty quick thinking.”
“I had a feeling it might come to that,” Gary said. “Part of the reason why I thought we should bring the wheelbarrow, just in case.”
Sam readjusted his grip and grunted. “You’d think she’d have half a heart to let us have it without paying. Like you said, Mr. Ruiz, we need to help each other out.”
“She did help us,” Gary said. “But she also has a business to run. It’s in her right to ask for payment.”
“I don’t know,” Sam started. “It seems like a short-sighted decision to me. I think we all realize the power’s not coming back for a while. Even if it did, I’m not sure her bank account will still be intact. Or ours.”
“It’s just a matter of time,” Gary said, “before we get some solar panels up and running. Like I said last night, before we know it, the government will be here to help.”
Jenn laid her hand on Sam’s and mouthed, Let it go. Gary and Sam had already spent more time together in the past twelve hours than in the previous two months combined. Some action at Carla’s and a little manual labor had elevated the testosterone levels to beyond Jenn’s comfort zone. Luckily, they only had to walk to the university now, not all the way to the Ruiz house.
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Sam said. “The government couldn’t even keep the price of food from shooting up. I’m not confident they’ll manage this any better.”
Her stomach tightened as she recalled the last argument between Sam and Gary. This discussion was veering into similar territory. She chewed her cheek and awaited Gary’s response, but it never came. He turned right off Leroux without arguing Sam’s point. Anticipating a follow-up from Sam, she drew his attention with a poke to the ribs, then pinched her thumb and index finger together and ran them across her lips like a zipper.
He huffed but did as she asked.
The next fifteen minutes passed in silence, but the air between Sam and Gary remained thick with tension.
Soon, Emerald City loomed ahead, signaling their arrival on campus.
Sam cleared his throat. “We’re almost—”
The whoop whoop of sirens cut him off.
Jenn turned to see a squad car with flashing red and blue lights buzz up behind them. “The hell is this?”
“Stay calm,” Gary said. “We haven’t done anything wrong. Do what they say.”
“Then why the hell are they stopping us?” Jenn barked.
Sam set the wheelbarrow down and backed away. “For starters, we’re pushing a wheelbarrow through the middle of town.”
“And?
” Jenn asked. “We paid for everything in it.”
“And I’m carrying a gun,” Gary said.
Why was that a problem? Gary knew everyone in town, especially the police. For years, he volunteered with them by taking calls, consulting, and helping train the younger officers. “You’re buddies with the cops,” she said. “It’s fine.”
“Not all of them. Just the old guys and Liam.”
The passenger-side door on the squad car popped open, and a young man with a round face and buzzed hair stepped out. The driver came out next. Jenn recognized her by the ponytail—the cop from Minute Tire. Why couldn’t Liam have stopped them instead?
Gary lifted his hands above his waist.
“Keep those hands up and stay where you are,” the one with the ponytail commanded.
“Officers,” Gary said. “I need to tell you I’m armed. A handgun on my belt. Right side.”
The female officer nodded to her colleague, who made his way forward, his gun drawn. He looked no older than thirty.
“Everyone,” the woman said, “lock your fingers behind your heads and drop to your knees—slowly.”
Really? Was this necessary? Gary had already forfeited his Glock. Why would he try anything after that? Jenn hesitated for a moment, but Gary complied. Hands on his head, he lowered himself down. Sam did the same, so Jenn reluctantly followed suit.
The male officer approached Gary as the female cop stepped forward. Except for the dark bags under her eyes, her face was pale. She had her gun drawn now, too. Jenn read the names embroidered on their shirts: Officer Ross, the woman, and Officer Leroi, the man.
“Sir,” Ross said to Gary, “please keep still while we disarm you.”
Gary remained silent while Leroi reached for his waist, confiscated his Glock, and then patted his beltline and ankles in search of another weapon.
Leroi presented Gary’s gun to Ross. “Here it is.”