by Lopez, Rob
They weren’t so lucky today. The houses they found had all been evacuated, with the former occupants taking anything edible with them for their journey to the camps. A couple of sauce bottles and a forgotten pickle jar was all they got. They did find a pear tree in a garden, though. Lauren marked it on her map.
“So what’s been bothering you, then?” said Lauren.
“Me? Nothing,” said April.
“Come on, you haven’t been the same since you arrived. Does the presence of Rick bother you? Or Scott?”
“No. I mean, maybe a little. I kind of feel left out.”
“You’re part of the team, April. Your opinion counts as much as anyone else’s.”
“Guess I’m not used to be being part of a team. It used to be just me and my baby.” April looked out across the yards at the other abandoned houses. “Have you ever wondered what kind of world we’re going to bring our children up in? Have you thought about how … it’s going to change them? And us?”
Lauren folded the map and returned it to her backpack. “Change? It’s kind of inevitable, isn’t it? Everything’s changed.”
“Yeah, but how’s it going to change us? As people?”
Lauren wasn’t sure she understood. “I don’t know. I guess some people are going to toughen up. Or explore personalities they didn’t know they had. You know, aspects of themselves they weren’t aware of? Others? They’re just going to freak out. Maybe some people will never adapt.”
“I wasn’t talking about that part, exactly.”
Lauren studied her friend for a moment before finally joining the dots. “You’re worried about your boy.”
“Yeah. Sort of. I mean, I didn’t want to say it or nothing.”
Sometimes Lauren forgot that she’d only known April a few weeks. It felt like their friendship ran a lot deeper than that. Now she realized there was still a lot more to learn about her companion.
“Daniel’s certainly come out of himself, if that’s what you mean,” she said cautiously. “It’s a good change, though. Right?”
April looked a little ashamed. “It’s just that … I felt useful for once in my life. I was competent. And someone needed me.”
Lauren stared for a while, then broke into a smile. “He’s still going to need you. That isn’t going to change. It’s early days, but you’ll see. This is what every mother feels. They’re so hooked on you when they’re young, and then they start to walk on their own, talk on their own, make friends, go on play dates. Next thing you know, they go without a backward glance and you realize you can lose them.” Lauren reminisced for a second. “I watched Josh growing up and he went through a bunch of phases. He was so cute when he was young. Then he went all self-sufficient on me for a while, trying to be like his dad. After that he got broody and closed himself off. It’s just stages. They like trying on different clothes, but inside they’re still the same, and if you’re paying attention, you see that. I expect Lizzy to surprise me in the same way. Or maybe not. They throw you curve balls, and you’ve got to bend to catch them. Nobody said being a parent was easy. It’s an emotional roller coaster.” Lauren touched April’s arm. “Daniel’s still Daniel. And you’re still his mom. No matter how much the world changes, our job stays the same: we gotta look after ’em, feed ’em and learn ’em.”
April laughed. “You sound just like Scott.”
“Yeah, he kind of rubs off on you. Won’t be long before you’re craving grits and wondering how to make moonshine.”
“That last one might not be a bad idea.”
“Yeah, if we could spare the corn, which we can’t. Come on. I said I’d take you shopping, so let’s go and check out Target.”
“You think there’ll be anything left there?”
“Won’t know till we go. Might as well cross it off the list. Besides, I need sanitary napkins. If not that, then a damn good supply of dark pants.”
*
Scott worked his way through the branches piled in the garage, sawing quickly. Lizzy and Daniel picked up the cut pieces and threw them into waiting buckets. In his eagerness to play this new game, Daniel strayed too close to the sawing and got sawdust in his mouth. Spitting and spluttering, he tried to get it out.
Scott stopped sawing, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Didn’t think you’d be hungry enough to eat that,” he said. “Least not until we’re desperate enough to mix it with flour and make bread with it.”
“Can you do that?” asked Lizzy.
“Never tried, but they say folks used to do it in olden days when they were starving. Not that I’d recommend it.”
“Tastes horrible,” said Daniel, trying to get it off his tongue with dirty hands and only making it worse.
“Hey,” said Scott. “Don’t put your fingers near your mouth unless you’ve washed them. That’s how you get diseases.”
Daniel froze, tongue sticking out.
Scott sighed. “Let’s get you some water.”
Scott led him into the kitchen and poured him a glass. “Rinse your mouth and spit into the sink. And wash your hands.” Scott handed him a sliver of soap. “It’s important to keep your hands clean. Remember when your mom kept telling you to wash your hands before dinner?”
Daniel stared at him.
“Well, I’m sure she did,” said Scott. “When I was your age, I used to eat all manner of crap, and when I wasn’t eating it, I was rolling in it. But we had a doctor then. Last thing I need is for you to get ill on my watch.”
“Before dinner, we wash our hands,” said Lizzy dutifully. “And after dinner, we brush our teeth.”
“Yeah,” said Scott, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “That’s gonna be more important than ever, on account we’ve got no dentist now. Should have asked your mom if she could get hold of some toothpaste. Or baking soda. That’ll work.”
“I made cakes with baking soda,” said Lizzy.
“You won’t be seeing them for a while. It’ll help keep your teeth clean, though, along with all the other stuff you can’t get no more.”
“I’m hungry,” said Daniel.
“That’s what comes from talking about food. Sorry, kid, but you’re going to have to get used to the feeling. Now git and play, I’ve got wood to saw.”
7
The Target store looked like a stampede of angry shoppers had gone through it in the wildest Black Friday ever, ripping clothes from hangers, items from shelves and shoes from boxes. Having purged the aisles of the consumer church, they then took their anger out on the empty checkouts, attacked the storerooms and made off with every red shopping cart and basket. Fire exit doors had been flung open and glass smashed. They might as well have taken the light fittings too, because the bedlam was cloaked in eerie gloom.
Lauren stretched out in the dust beneath a grocery shelf, reaching for an object that had been forgotten in the rush. Her fingers grasped what she hoped was a packet of flour, but as she dragged it back, she saw it had been torn open already and was simply paper in her hand. A rat dashed by in a flurry of skittering claws and Lauren recoiled, shuddering.
April aimed her shotgun as the rodent sped away.
“No,” cautioned Lauren.
“Them things give me the creeps,” whispered April.
“I know, but unless we’re going to eat it, it’s not worth it.”
“I don’t know which would be worse. That, or this.” April picked up a can of dog meat that they’d salvaged. They had three cans, plus a bag of pork hide chews.
Lauren stood up and brushed the thick dust off her chest. “Peel the labels off. We’ll call it stew.”
“Call it what you like, girl. I know what I’ll be eating.”
Lauren hadn’t expected to find much, but the results were disappointing, all the same. People hadn’t been choosy. They’d simply swept entire shelves into carts and run off to sort it out later. The pharmacy and healthcare sections had been stripped clean, with even the sunglasses gone. Sneakers had been take
n from the sportswear department, baseball bats from sporting goods and every single electronic device in the store, in spite of the fact that none of it would be working. Lauren guessed that, in the throes of a looting mindset, people just couldn’t resist taking junk that was now useless.
The underwear department, however, showed promise. Lauren squinted to read the labels in the dim light. “Want a thong?” she asked.
“No thanks,” said April. “Briefs will be fine. Don’t want to spend the day pulling the damn things out of my ass.”
“It’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”
“I still feel like I want to.”
Without a laundry system having been set up, Lauren felt it was hygienically important to have a change of underwear. They might smell like hogs, but at least they wouldn’t catch fungal infections. Grabbing a variety of panties and thrusting them into her bag, she selected some for the children too, then grabbed shorts for the guys. She had no luck finding sanitary napkins, though. She improvised with a discarded pack of thick makeup-removal cotton pads. Not ideal, so her quest for napkins would continue, but it was better than nothing.
Leaving the store, they crossed the parking lot, passing a Wendy’s burger joint.
“Let’s try in here,” said Lauren.
April looked at the building, which also looked to have been comprehensively looted. “What do you think you’re going to find there? Apart from more rats?”
“Salt shakers,” replied Lauren.
April nodded. She had a point. In the quest for food, people would likely overlook such things, but salt was now a valuable substance. From medical care to food storage, it was probably worth its weight in gold these days. More, in fact.
They entered through an open rear door, into the kitchen. As suspected, the food storage areas had been cleared out. The stainless steel tables and ovens were coated in dust that showed rodent and cat prints. There was also the strange smell of tobacco smoke.
Lauren and April exchanged a glance. The odor was fresh. Holding her rifle ready, Lauren crept forward to the serving counter and peered into the restaurant seating area.
The large glass windows provided plenty of light, but for a moment she couldn’t see anything, apart from the coveted salt shakers sitting obediently at each table.
Then a puff of smoke rose from a booth, followed by the audible moan of someone savoring the moment.
Lauren circled around, motioning for April to keep an eye on the entrances. Slowly, the stretched-out legs of a guy seated at a table came into view, followed by an extended hand holding a lit cigarette. Moving farther, she froze when she saw the other hand.
It was holding a grenade, and the pin was on the table.
“Oh, hi there,” said the guy nonchalantly.
He looked to be in his early thirties, with a high voice and a heavy New Jersey accent. When he grinned, the creases around his cheeks showed that he smiled a lot.
Lauren’s finger took up the slack on the trigger. “Why are you holding a grenade?” she said.
“Oh, you know,” said the guy. “To stop people shooting me when I’m relaxing.”
April looked across with alarm. Lauren thought that, depending on the length of fuse, she could maybe make it out of the building before the guy released the lever and triggered the explosive.
Or maybe she couldn’t. In the confined space, the force of that tiny weapon would be deadly. The guy appeared genuinely happy to be where he was, though. He took another drag of his cigarette.
Lauren thought he looked a little crazy. Either that, or he was a dupe for someone else lying in wait. Urgently, she motioned April to the back entrance.
“Where’d you get the grenade?” she said, to keep him talking.
The man shrugged. “I found it?”
“You found it?”
The man smiled again, creasing the laughter lines around his eyes. “I found it. You know how it is.”
“No, I don’t. You know they’re not serving here, anymore, don’t you?”
The guy looked around and, with a twinkle in his eye, leaned forward conspiratorially. “I had noticed it was kinda quiet.”
Lauren was losing her patience. “Sir, do you want to explain what you’re doing, smoking a cigarette in an empty restaurant?”
The guy appeared surprised at the question. “It’s the best time, isn’t it? Man, with all these laws saying you can’t smoke here and you can’t smoke there, isn’t it great that you can now smoke wherever you want? I wanna try the mall next. Then maybe the mayor’s office. Wouldn’t that be something?”
Lauren looked askance at him. “Who are you?”
“You can call me Packy,” assured the guy.
“That your name?”
“Naw, but I like it better.”
Lauren backed away. “That’s good,” she said cautiously.
Packy gave a quick bow of his head and waved his cigarette. “It is, isn’t it? Y’all have a good day.”
Lauren kept moving toward the kitchen. On the way, she grabbed a salt shaker.
“I saw that,” called Packy. “But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
Once past the serving counter, Lauren mouthed, “Go!” to April and broke into a run. Together they sprinted out across the lot and into the shadow of the Target building. They waited for what Lauren felt was the inevitable explosion.
“Tell me I didn’t just hallucinate that,” said April.
“Hell if I know what to make of it,” said Lauren.
“Was that grenade real?”
“I don’t know. Wasn’t going to get closer to check.”
“It could have been fake, right? He could have been bluffing.”
Lauren shrugged. “He wasn’t bluffing about anything. He was just sitting there, like he didn’t really care.”
“He’s off his meds, that’s what it is. His brain’s gone.”
Lauren continued to watch the restaurant. “I don’t know. I mean, if he’s crazy, how come he’s still alive?”
“You call that alive? The guy’s a nut. If we’d have put aprons on and served him this dog food, he’d have said it was mighty fine and asked for more.”
Lauren smirked. “Maybe he would have tipped us.”
“Sure. He’d have left the grenade in the jar.”
“Look. There he goes.”
A lonely figure left the restaurant and headed to uptown. He had his hands in his pockets and he ambled along, looking up at the birds in the sky, without a care in the world.
“Shoot him,” said April.
“Why?”
“He’s crazy and he’s dangerous.”
As they watched him go, he looked anything but.
“Let’s follow him,” said Lauren. “He’s got to be living somewhere, right? His clothes didn’t look that dirty. And he’d shaved. There has to be an answer to this mystery.”
“I can live with the ignorance. We’re supposed to be scavenging.”
“And we’ll do that. It’s just a minor detour.”
April blew her lips out. “Major waste of time, you mean.”
“Quit whining. Come on.”
They trailed him at a distance. It was easy enough, as he exhibited no caution. He just looked like an average guy on his way to a bar. Or to his therapist.
“He’s heading for that mall,” whispered April as she peered around the corner.
“That’s what he said he’d do,” said Lauren.
“That don’t make it normal.”
They waited until he’d passed through the smashed portico entrance, then followed up. Lauren peered around the doorway, careful not to make any noise on the broken glass.
It was a small arcade, with a single plaza between rows of eateries and a glass atrium overhead. Packy wandered as if he was in a nostalgic dream, glancing into cafes and sitting at empty tables, occasionally changing his seat as if he couldn’t make up his mind which view he wanted. After several minutes of procrastination, he lay down
on the marbled floor and stared up at the atrium, lighting another cigarette. Lauren watched for a while longer, then gave up.
Pulling back, she said, “I don’t understand what he’s doing.”
“I don’t think he does,” said April.
“We’ve wasted enough time. Let him daydream. We need to check out drug stores.”
“Don’t forget: we can go back and grab the other salt shakers. I think we need to stay away from this guy.”
“Maybe, but I don’t like not knowing where he is. We’ll stay in the area and check back on him later.”
8
Josh had seen dead bodies before. What he hadn’t seen was one so deteriorated. The ribs stuck out of the deflated carcass, and only a single crow bothered to pick anything off the bones, braving the cloud of flies. Smaller birds hopped in and out, picking nervously at the maggots.
They were out west of Charlotte, looking for a gun store. They were deeper into the radiation zone. A trip that would have taken minutes in a car now seemed to take forever. At least, that’s how it seemed to Josh, who wasn’t used to walking anywhere. His father hadn’t faltered, moving stealthily from one location to another. At a music store, he picked up guitar strings for reasons that weren’t readily apparent to Josh. He didn’t explain why, and Josh didn’t ask. They simply moved in silence. In fact, at times, Josh got the impression that his father forgot he was there, so focused on his surroundings was he. Josh simply had to keep up. His father moved like a panther, and his attention was relentless. Josh had never really seen him like this before, and it slowly dawned on him that he was with a trained killer.
Intellectually, Josh had always known what his father did for a living. At a gut level, however, he never really grasped it the way he did now. It was a little chilling.
The remains of the corpse lay outside the gun store, and it wasn’t the only one. Clouds of flies above the weeds indicated others. On the opposite sidewalk, another body lay, but this one could be identified as a cop by what was left of the uniform.