Desolation (Book 1): Desolation

by Lucin, David

  “God knows you’ve earned it,” Gary said, then led Liam to the door. A chorus of goodbyes followed him out.

  “Well,” Gary said, “how about another round of beers? I’ve got a six-pack left. Can I offer you a beer, Kevin?”

  “Not for me, thanks.”

  “Sure thing.” Gary winked at Jenn. “That means an extra for Jenn.”

  “I’ll have one,” Maria said. Everyone looked to her, and she threw her hands up. “What? I like them, too, you know. I just wait until after noon.”

  Sam laughed at that. So did Gary.

  Jenn felt herself smiling. She’d found her family, after all.

  * * *

  Desolation 2: Into the Inferno is available on Amazon.

  Click here to download!

  Turn the page to read the first two chapters.

  1

  Gary could pick locks.

  Jenn shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he used to be a cop in Phoenix, but watching him wiggle and twist what looked like a dentist’s tool reminded her that he wasn’t always a stereotypical Flagstaff retiree.

  They stood outside a house a few doors down from the Ruiz home—Jenn’s home, too, though calling it that still felt strange. The smoke was even thicker today, and it stung her eyes and throat. It was early May, but she wore jeans and a sweater. Five days ago, before the EMP and before five hydrogen bombs exploded above Phoenix, setting the city on fire and filling the sky with haze, she would have been wearing shorts and a tank top.

  A chill wormed its way into her lower back. She shivered, and Sam must have seen it, because he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. His long-sleeve NAU shirt smelled like fresh laundry. Jenn wondered how she’d clean her clothes without power or running water. Would she have to trek to a nearby creek and wash them there?

  “You okay?” he whispered to her.

  “Yeah,” she said. The word came out terse and clipped. Since she and Sam returned from Payson with his family yesterday morning, he hadn’t left her side for more than a minute. Even when she had to use the bathroom—a portable toilet the fire department had dropped off for the entire street to share—Sam followed her there, asking if she was all right or if she needed to talk about what happened. All she wanted was to forget. Was that so much to ask?

  “Okay,” he mumbled while Gary continued to work. “If you need to—”

  “I got it.” Jenn cringed at how harsh that sounded, so she put her arm around his waist and said, “I’m fine.” She checked to confirm that Gary wasn’t listening, then lifted her chin to make eye contact with Sam. “Really. I promise.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but Gary clapped his hands together at the door. “Got it,” he announced.

  “Took you long enough,” Jenn joked. “And you call yourself a cop.”

  Gary slipped his tools into a small black box, snapped it shut, and tossed it into a bag at his feet. “We used to just bust them down if we needed in. I don’t think my knees could handle it anymore. Plus, I figured Sam and his family wouldn’t like it if I broke the door to their new house.”

  Probably not, but Jenn doubted they’d be happy anywhere in Flagstaff. Having lived in Arcadia, one of the few areas of Metro Phoenix to avoid the modular housing boom and the worst of the depression, they were used to a certain standard of luxury. Even their so-called cabin in Payson was a mansion by Jenn’s definition. They spent last night at the Ruiz house, and Gary seemed eager to find them their own place. Fortunately, there were a dozen or more empty homes on this street alone, so they had their pick. That sounded like a good deal to Jenn, but Barbara, Sam’s mother, was going to be furious.

  Gary brushed his hands on his pants and adjusted his belt. “Ready?”

  “Stop being so dramatic,” Jenn said. “Unless you have a brand-new car behind this door or something.”

  Gary frowned at that. The day after the bombs, he traded his Kia for a mobile oxygen compressor and batteries so Maria could breathe. He bought the car more than ten years ago, and he loved it. Saturdays were for washing it and detailing the interior. He parked far from other cars and always bragged about the autodrive, even though he only drove on manual. Still, when it came to his wife, Gary didn’t hesitate to give up the vehicle, not for a nanosecond. He’d have given up more if he had to.

  “Sorry. Bad joke.”

  “No problem,” Gary said. “Good to see you’ve got your sense of humor back, despite the fact that it’s at my expense.”

  Unbidden, an image of the man with the Yankees hat in Payson, a bloody hole in his chest, forced its way into Jenn’s mind. She could almost smell the gunpowder and hear the ringing in her ears. It kept her up all night. Every time she shut her eyes, she watched her victim die on the pavement, his face a mixture of fear and confusion.

  “Let’s see it, Mr. Ruiz,” Sam said. “Open it up.”

  Gary pushed in the door and stepped inside. Sam and Jenn followed.

  The layout was similar to that of the Ruiz house: a sitting area on the right, a kitchen and dining room in the back, and a hallway with bedrooms and a bathroom to the left. Boards on the windows kept the interior dark. The air smelled stale and ancient, and light from the open door behind them reflected off bits of floating dirt and debris.

  The floors creaked beneath Jenn as she walked. “Well,” she started, “it’s a house, all right. I can’t say much more than that.”

  Gary clicked on his flashlight and shone it around the kitchen. Sam wiped an index finger across the countertop, leaving behind a streak in the dust.

  “Your mom is going to freak out,” Jenn said to Sam.

  “Why?” Gary asked. He tried the tap at the sink. It sputtered, but only a few drops came out. “It’ll be great. I’m sure she’ll be happy to have her own space.”

  Jenn stepped around a stain on the living room floor. At first, she feared it might be blood, like the patch she left on the golf course parking lot in Payson. The sight conjured the memory of Nicole crying as Jenn dumped the corpse into the bushes. She shook the thought away. It was probably just water damage. Nevertheless, she gave the dark spot a wide berth and spoke again to keep her mind off it: “You didn’t see her react to broken plates at the cabin. This? She’s going to lose it.”

  Sam bit his thumbnail.

  Gary began to speak but stopped. The white of his flashlight shone onto the kitchen floor.

  “What?” Jenn asked. “What are you looking at?”

  “Mouse poo.” Gary crouched for a closer look. “At least I hope it’s mice and not rats.”

  “Should we try another place?” Sam switched fingers between his teeth. “If this one’s got a rat problem, they shouldn’t sleep here, right?”

  Jenn chewed on his use of “they.” Did that mean he intended to stay with her at Gary’s again tonight? Before she and Sam left for Payson, he agreed to move into the Ruiz house. Logistically, it made sense; there wasn’t much point in him living at McKay Village on campus anymore. She used to sleep over with Sam on the weekends. The rest of the time, at least four days a week, she was on her own.

  Would she ever have another night alone? All she wanted was one more to straighten out her head, forget about Yankees Hat, and get herself right. She couldn’t do it if Sam continued reminding her about that day. Fantasies of running into the woods and putting a mile or more between her and the next living person filled her mind. It would be peaceful there—no smothering boyfriend, no questions from Gary, nothing. She’d sit in the brush and listen to birds and just be.

  She caught herself wringing her hands together.

  With a groan, Gary stood. “I never said it was rats. These droppings look pretty old, anyway, so it might be okay. Besides, who’s to say the next house is any better? We can get this cleaned up.”

  Sam hunched over to inspect the mouse poo. “I don’t think we’ll be able to do it all today. Is it all right if everyone spends another night at your place, Mr. Ruiz? I mean, there’s no furnit
ure yet, either.”

  They. The word settled in the bottom of Jenn’s stomach like she’d swallowed a rock. “If you stay here, too,” she began, “maybe it’ll be easier for them.” The words tasted wrong in her mouth. She shouldn’t have said them, but she didn’t have the heart to tell Sam she wanted to be alone. He wouldn’t understand.

  His head swung around, and he froze, one finger in his mouth.

  Jenn’s bowels turned to liquid, but she steeled herself and continued. “I’m okay by myself tonight. Your mom needs you close. Remember what Nicole told you at the cabin? About you leaving her again so soon?”

  He shrugged at her and returned to the mouse poo. His indifference made her blood boil. In the year they’d been dating, he’d never been good at picking up on her signals, but she shouldn’t have to spell it out for him.

  Gary looked uncomfortable, like his clothes itched or fit too tight. “Well, I figured your family could have the cots and sleeping bags from the shed. We have lots of extra blankets and pillows.”

  “You can borrow my sheets,” Jenn offered. “And a pillow. It’s hot as hell in my room at night anyway and I don’t really use them.”

  Sam tilted his head. “We’ll see. Either way, we should get started. Do you have a broom?”

  “I have a couple at the house,” Gary said. “I’ll also bring a second crowbar, and maybe Jenn can help me take down the rest of these boards on the windows. A little bit more light in here would do wonders.”

  “Or make the rat crap more obvious,” Jenn said. “You know Barbara’s going to see it.”

  That earned her a sideways glance from Sam.

  “What?” she asked him. “She will.”

  Gary pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t say it was rats.”

  “I’m pretty sure you said it might be rats.”

  “You could get a cat,” came a man’s voice from the front door.

  Jenn spun around. Liam, dressed in his black Flagstaff Police Department uniform and silhouetted by the light outside, stood in the doorway.

  Gary offered Liam his hand for a shake. “I don’t think Maria would let us borrow Ajax.”

  “Plenty of cats at the shelter.” Liam gave Gary a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Dogs, too, if you’re dog people.”

  Jenn tried picturing Barbara with a pet. It wasn’t easy.

  Gary stroked his mustache. “A dog might not be a bad idea. Just to be safe.”

  Liam came deeper into the house. His limp from yesterday had disappeared, and there was no sign that his left leg was a prosthesis. “Jenn,” he said with a nod. “How’re we doing today?”

  What did he mean by that? Gary hadn’t told him what happened, had he?

  He lifted an eyebrow at her.

  The air went cold. “I’m fine,” she said, then steered the conversation elsewhere. “You?”

  “Doing all right, thanks.” Liam tapped his belt. “You folks coming down to the station to pick up your water rations?”

  Gary switched off his flashlight. “Noon, right?”

  “You got it. We’ll be handing out ration cards for food as well.”

  “Funny,” Gary said as though nothing was funny at all. “It took being isolated from the entire country to finally get rationing in place like we had in World War Two.”

  Liam snapped his fingers. “That reminds me. Remember how you asked me yesterday if you could help out?” he said to Gary.

  “I do. Offer still stands.”

  “Excellent.” Liam blew on the kitchen counter. A cloud of dust, sparkling in the faint sunlight, rose into the air. “We’re wondering if you’d be up for coming by the station. We can use good people, and you have more experience than pretty much anyone on the force right now. You won’t be out on patrol with the young bucks, but you could pitch in doing some training or admin.”

  Gary smiled. “Not a problem. Been a while, but I’ll do whatever’s needed.”

  “What about Maria?” Jenn blurted.

  “She’ll be okay,” Gary said. “Sam’s family will be happy to help out. Right, Sam?”

  Sam had opened a kitchen cupboard and was looking inside. “Sure, Mr. Ruiz.”

  Gary spoke to Liam next. “Anything Jenn can do?”

  She threw Gary a questioning look. “Me?” she asked. “Am I being volunteered?”

  “No.” Gary’s posture slouched. “I just thought . . .” His face went a shade redder as he considered his words. “We all need to contribute, and since you don’t have classes, I figured you’d be eager to help out.”

  Jenn dug her fingers into her hips, then let them relax. Finding her a job must be his way of helping her forget about Payson. When her brother Jason died in the war, her father tried something similar: home improvement projects. He and Jenn painted every room in the house, even though they were only renting. Andrew was killed soon after they finished, so they started all over again. Back then, keeping busy helped. Maybe it would now, too. Better than reliving the experience over and over again by talking it out with Sam.

  “Yeah. You’re right. As long as Maria’s covered.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Liam said. “So, Gary, about you coming down to the—”

  His radio squawked.

  “Unit two-zero-nine,” he answered, pressing the receiver clipped to his shoulder. “Go ahead.”

  He leaned his ear into the speaker. A voice, muffled in static, responded in police jargon that made no sense to Jenn.

  Liam turned and moved away so the others couldn’t hear his response.

  Her guts knotted, and the air cooled by a few more degrees. “What?” she asked anyone listening. “What’s going on?”

  Gary shushed her by holding up an index finger.

  Liam released the radio and faced everyone again. “Sorry, folks. I have to go.”

  “Wait,” Gary said. He jogged forward to meet Liam at the front door. “What was that? I caught a few words about the interstate.”

  Liam stepped outside and made for his squad car at the bottom of the driveway. “Refugees.”

  “Refugees?” Jenn echoed. An image of her parents, their clothes torn and dirty and their faces burnt by sun and radiation, flashed in her mind. Could they be alive? Could they have finally come to find her?

  No, it wasn’t possible.

  The butterflies in her stomach thought otherwise.

  “Jenn?” Sam asked. “You okay?”

  Liam had left the house. Gary stood at the front door, scratching his head. Jenn raced past him. “Hold on,” she called after Liam. “The refugees. Are they from Phoenix?”

  Liam stopped at the curb. “No,” he said. “West. Las Vegas.”

  2

  The butterflies turned into nausea, but the image of her parents lingered. Since the evening of the bombs, she’d assumed that Phoenix was one of a dozen or more cities targeted in the attack. This was proof, and it made her want to throw up.

  “Did you say Las Vegas?” she asked, hoping she had somehow misunderstood.

  Liam moved to the driver’s side of his car and pushed the handle to open the door. “I assume so. A drone spotted them a couple miles out on I-40.” He almost sounded bored. Maybe what happened to him in West Ukraine made everything else pale in comparison. Or maybe he was so exhausted after the events of the past few days that he couldn’t muster the energy to become worried. Either way, Jenn envied his demeanor.

  “How many are there?” she asked. Sam came up behind her and put his hand on the small of her back. She jumped at his touch.

  “Hundred,” Liam answered bluntly. “Maybe a hundred and twenty.”

  Gary whistled and patted the roof of the squad car. “What’s your plan?”

  “Plan?” Liam said with a humorless laugh. “We’re on standing orders from Mayor Andrews to turn away any and all refugees. I’ve been put in charge of doing just that.”

  Fire ignited in Jenn’s chest. “Turn them away?” she snapped. The thought of her parents wandering int
o town and being refused entry gnawed at her. “You can’t be serious. They’re survivors of a nuclear attack. They need help.”

  Liam leaned on the open door and rubbed his forehead. “I’m with you on that one.” The radio on his shoulder squawked again, but he covered it with a hand. “So we’re clear, the mayor can take her orders and shove them you know where. I have no intention of turning these people away, but you better believe I intend to play it safe. I can’t let more than a hundred strangers stroll into town unsupervised. For our protection and theirs.”

  “What do you mean theirs?” Jenn asked.

  Liam scratched his thick stubble. “Supplies are low. We’ll be out of food in two months, maybe three if we stretch it. Folks aren’t going to be happy about having more mouths to feed. They might decide to take matters into their own hands.”

  Concern was etched across Gary’s face. “You have the manpower to do all this?”

  Liam laughed his empty laugh. “Absolutely not. Pretty much every available body is standing guard at the Go Market, the station, the water treatment plant, wherever. We’re stretched to the brink, working sixteen-hour days—at least.” He climbed into the car. “Listen, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to rip out there before anyone does anything stupid, like threaten these people or shoot at them.” The engine buzzed on, but he didn’t drive off. Instead, he lowered the window and spoke to Gary. “You still want to help?”

  “However I can.”

  Liam jerked his thumb toward the passenger door. “Then get in.”

  Gary rounded the front of the vehicle.

  “I’m coming with you,” Jenn said before her brain registered that she was speaking.

  “What?” Sam asked, incredulous.

  His fingers lingered on her hip as she made for the squad car.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice was low, almost condescending, she thought. “It’s only been a day and—”

  Jenn wanted to put her hands on his chest and shove him away. He was acting like her mother when she hurt her hamstring in her last year of softball. “You’re not ready yet,” Mom had said. “The trainer told you to stay off it for two weeks.” Screw that. And screw Sam. She was fine. What happened yesterday didn’t matter. It’s in the past, she repeated to herself. Get over it. You’ve moved on.