by Lopez, Rob
“Bother you, any?”
“Since I ain’t getting none? Yeah.”
“You’re too old to get some, Pappy. You’ll put your back out.”
Rick was walking point through the yards while Scott carried two five-gallon containers of water.
“If you’re so virile, you can carry these damn things,” grumbled Scott. “Anyway, what’d you use last night?”
“A plastic bag.”
Scott screwed up his face. “Amateur.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I was fresh out of pig gut.”
“You oughta see if you can get a latex glove from the hospital. The little finger should fit you just fine.”
“Says the guy who was run out of a whorehouse in Bangkok because they wouldn’t do discount rates for pensioners.”
“Hey, the girls there were older than me. And I wasn’t convinced they were all girls. Anyways, are you serious about this community thing? I never figured you as a civic-minded guy.”
“Just makes tactical sense, if you think about it.”
“You know a better way to have a community? One you can rely on, leastwise. Have more kids. Remember the big family clans in Mali? Plenty of extra hands to work in the fields. Best long-term insurance you can have.”
“I don’t particularly want to wait twenty years for that. And if you’re planning to put that good idea to Lauren, I advise you to duck right after telling her.”
“Worked for the Hatfields and McCoys.”
“That’s a great precedent you’ve got there.”
When they reached the hospital, they ascended the levels and Rick called out to warn Harvey. When he turned the corner, he saw the barricade was unchanged from the day before. Harvey looked no happier to see them.
“Bought you some water,” said Rick.
Sally came out from the ward. “I see you’ve all got uniforms now,” she said, eyeing the crisp clean ACUs.
“Clothes maketh the man,” said Rick.
“I don’t think so,” grunted Harvey.
Rick ignored him. “Got boiled water to drink in one container,” he said to Sally, “and water from the creek in the other. Use it to flush your toilets.”
“You know?” said Sally. “I didn’t think we’d see you again. Thanks. I was starting to worry about getting enough water.”
“How’s the patients?”
Sally sighed. “Still hanging in there. I see you didn’t bring the boy with you.”
“Not today, no.”
“He wasn’t too happy to see me. I recall now that I was a bit abrupt with him, way back. I wanted to apologize to him.”
“You’ll get your chance. How are you doing for food? I can’t promise to bring anything for a while. We’re kind of low ourselves.”
“We’ve got enough powdered supplement to last a few more days. It’s not great, but it’s better than nothing.”
“I guess so. Look, there’s a nut loose in the city with a grenade. Are you sure you can’t relocate? If anything happens, we might not be able to get here in time. Your security sucks. Sooner or later, somebody’s going to find you.”
“There ain’t nothing wrong with our security,” intervened Harvey. “Don’t listen to him, Sally. He’s just trying to scare us. He wants the medicines. I bet that water’s poisoned. Don’t be fooled.”
Rick continued to address the nurse. “The longer you stay, the harder it’s going to get. I admire your sense of duty, but you’re on your own. The camps are in chaos and they’ve forgotten about you. They’ve got their own problems.”
Sally massaged her weary face. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve got patients and I’m not leaving them. That’s not just duty. That’s humanity.”
“He don’t know what that means,” said Harvey with disdain. “He’s just looking out for himself. The army will be back here soon, boy, and they’ll chase your deserting ass out of the city. That’s why you’re in a hurry to get us out of here. The hospital director and the chief of police knows where we are, so this is where we stay. We don’t need your help.”
Rick turned away without a word, but as he was leaving, Scott eyeballed the security guard and told him, “You’re kind of a dick, aren’t you?”
As they descended the levels, Scott turned to Rick. “Are these the people you want in our community? Seriously?”
Rick, lost in his own world, didn’t reply.
*
April was pleased with her new ACUs. Admiring herself in the reflection of a house window, she struck a pose. The cut-down shotgun no longer felt unwieldy, and Scott had even improvised a sling for her. “I look so badass,” she laughed. “All I need is a beret and I could start a revolution.”
Lauren was on her knees on the sidewalk, gathering acorns. “Well, if Che could give us a hand here, that would be great.”
It had been April’s idea to pick the acorns. With oak trees lining every neighborhood street, there were more than enough to collect. Daniel and Lizzy had been drafted to help, and the amassed dish pans and basins were filling up.
April dropped down next to Lauren. “Do you think Scott likes me?” she asked.
Lauren looked up, blowing hair out of her eyes. “I don’t know. Why?”
“Well, this,” said April, tugging at her bandoleer. “And this,” she added, shaking her shotgun. “Back in Baltimore, when some homie goes out of their way to do things for me, it usually means they’re hitting on me. I mean, don’t it?”
Lauren struggled to grasp that perspective for a moment. “Uhhh, maybe. But you have to understand. Scott’s army through and through. He’s been doing it, like, forever, and never showed any sign of wanting to quit. It’s what he is, and … well, being in the army’s like that. You see anyone on the base or in the field who needs something, you don’t wait for a reason to help. You just do it. It’s kind of a brotherhood thing. Camaraderie. You’re all part of the same group.”
“Like a gang?”
“Kind of. It’s difficult to explain if you haven’t been there. It’s not a rule or anything. Everybody’s just kind of tuned in to the same vibe. I mean, when I was serving, I knew when some guy was hitting on me. They weren’t subtle about it – most of them didn’t understand subtle. But on the other hand, I had countless guys step out of their way to help me with my ruck, dig a trench, push a Humvee out of the mud, and a whole bunch of other stuff. I didn’t know those guys, and some weren’t even from my unit, and I never saw them again, but I learned to do the same myself. It was the culture. If you see someone who isn’t combat-ready, it can affect the whole unit, so you pitch in and do what you can to straighten them out.”
“So you’re saying he’s just doing it out of some habit?”
“Hey, I’m just speculating here, but … yeah.” Lauren looked April in the eye. “I know you’re struggling to grasp this, but you’re part of a unit now. This is our outfit, and you’re in it. All for one and one for all, that kind of thing.”
“I thought that was make-believe.”
“I can tell you, categorically, it is not. Honestly, it’s a living, breathing thing.”
April thought about it for a moment. “You just burst my bubble. What does a girl have to do to get attention if it turns out she’s gonna get attention anyway but not the attention that she wants?”
Lauren stifled a laugh. “I’m not even going to try to interpret that. Girl, you are overthinking everything. I mean, the signs and all.” She looked up the street and suddenly called, “Hey!”
Daniel and Lizzy had gotten so relaxed with their chores that they were crossing the road to the other side for more acorns. Lauren waved them back.
“We need to stay focused,” she said to April. “Discipline is breaking down.”
April smirked. “Okay, I’ll take point and you be the rear-guard.”
“We’ve got a lot of acorns. Shouldn’t this be enough?”
April cast an eye over the basins. “Maybe. I don’t really know.”
&nbs
p; “And we’re going to roast and eat these?”
“Hell no. According to the video I watched, they’ll taste really bad. We’ve got to shell them and then leach the tannin out before we cook and eat them. I was thinking we could gather them in a sheet and leave them tied up in the creek for a few days.”
“A few days? Damn, I was hoping we’d eat these tonight.”
“Not unless you want to get sick. First, we gotta crack the shells open. With what we’ve got, that could take a while. But if we prepare a bunch every day, we should have a daily source of proteins and, uh, other stuff.”
“Do they taste good?”
“Not a clue. Like everything else, this is my first time.”
*
Josh was also experiencing that first-time feeling – this time, with hunting. He’d been practicing with the pellet gun in the yard, as instructed, punching holes in paper targets. The yard echoed with the thwacking of pellets into the fence post. It got boring real fast, though, and his accuracy wasn’t improving much. For variety, he started balancing small stones on the fence, seeing if he could shoot them off. Most times, he couldn’t, other than when he hit the paneling and knocked them off with the vibration.
Alone in the yard, he lost motivation and sat staring at the trees. Movement in one caught his eye.
It was a squirrel, several yards over. Josh peered through the scope, but lost sight of it.
He’d been told to stay in the yard, but it was so quiet, he figured it would be okay to wander a little distance. Climbing over the fence at the end, he began stalking, like he’d seen his dad do. When he reached the tree, he looked up but could not see the squirrel.
The foliage rustled and a pigeon flew off.
Josh looked around and saw a squirrel scampering along a branch in another yard. He wasn’t sure if it was the same one. Crouching down low, he snuck up to the fence. The squirrel, possibly alerted to his presence, bounded onto another tree.
Josh climbed over and crept behind some bushes, lifting his rifle. The squirrel, clinging to the bark, skittered around to the other side of the tree. Holding his breath, Josh circled around, but the squirrel kept moving, keeping the bulk of the tree between itself and Josh.
Josh switched back, trying to outsmart the squirrel, but the agile rodent kept going around the tree. Josh waited, keeping the rifle sighted. He estimated he was in range. He just needed to wait.
The squirrel wasn’t inclined to cooperate, however, and remained clinging to the other side of the trunk, moving up and down.
Josh stared through the sight, trying to keep his breathing steady, mentally practicing the correct trigger technique. For what seemed an age, nothing happened, and Josh got cramp in his legs from his crouching position. The crosshair wavered.
Skittering up the trunk, the squirrel finally stuck its head above a branch, like it was checking what the human was doing. Josh placed the crosshair on the squirrel’s head and pulled the trigger. The pellet gun clacked, the scope rose up and the squirrel disappeared. Josh leaped up and broke into a run, fully expecting the squirrel’s body to come tumbling down.
When he got to the tree, he found nothing. Getting on his hands and knees, he circled around in the long grass, thinking it might be hidden, but there was no sign of the rodent, dead or alive. Looking up at the tree produced nothing, either. The squirrel had simply vanished.
Dejected, Josh sank down, He couldn’t believe he’d missed, and he cursed the air rifle for being such a useless, inaccurate piece of crap. If he’d had a real rifle, he was sure he would have got the target.
Why the hell had his dad left him with this toy? Why didn’t he trust him with anything better?
Simmering with resentment, he stood up and caught sight of movement in the gap between two houses.
Josh ducked down. Whatever he’d seen was bigger than a squirrel. He looked back and saw he was some distance from his own yard. Heart thumping, he clutched his rifle, certain he’d seen someone.
A scavenger was in their neighborhood, and there was no one nearby he could tell.
Worse still, he’d left the handbag with the revolver behind, next to the pellet cans.
The scratching of wood made him jump. If he shouted out, he wondered if Mom would make it here in time. Or whether he’d just seal his own fate. The memory of the time he’d had to run away from the guy who murdered his grandmother gnawed at him. Suddenly, he was sweating.
Minutes passed, and he heard nothing more. Was somebody waiting for him to move, like he’d waited for the squirrel?
He felt exposed in the middle of the yard and decided to crawl slowly to the fence. Curled up, he strained to hear another sound, but nothing came. Unable to stand it anymore, he cautiously lifted his head until he could see over the fence.
He’d certainly found a scavenger, but not the type he first thought. A cat, one of several that prowled the neighborhood, sat perched on another fence, licking at its fur.
Josh breathed out in relief. As he relaxed, a thought came to him: if he couldn’t hit a squirrel, maybe he could hit a cat. It was a bigger target, and it was real close.
Could they eat cat? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to dwell on the details. Simply the satisfaction of making it home with something would be worth it. Rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans, he gripped the rifle and slowly aimed it over the fence.
The cat, seemingly oblivious to his presence, continued to groom itself. Josh placed the crosshairs on its back, then switched his aim to one side, wondering where exactly the heart was. Lacking in the requisite anatomical knowledge, he opted to aim for the head instead, and steadied his finger on the trigger.
The cat turned to look at him, unfazed. Josh stared at its eyes through the scope. The rifle felt rock steady, and the image didn’t waver. The cat gazed into his soul.
The trigger felt like a brick wall, and Josh couldn’t pull it. After some seconds, he lowered the rifle and let out his pent-up breath. The cat, with a last contemptuous glance, jumped down from the fence and disappeared.
Josh sank back onto the ground, breathing hard. Dropping the rifle onto his knees, he realized he wasn’t cut out for hunting. Throwing his head back in despair, he noticed the rising smoke in the distance.
*
Rick and Scott also noticed the smoke, coming from uptown. Turning back, they made their way cautiously through the streets until they were in sight of the library. It was ablaze, flames licking out from the shattered windows, the smoke obscuring the upper stories and creating an acrid haze on East 6th Street. On a plaque outside the main entrance was a sign that declared: Books are food for the soul.
Underneath, someone had spray painted: So let’s grill, followed by a smiley face.
11
The next day brought heavy rain, lending a gloomy cast to an already gloomy city. Lauren walked through the charred ruins of the library interior, stepping over the barely identifiable debris, and staying clear of the collapsed ceiling that dripped water into a pool. Smoke still rose from smoldering piles, making the library look like a school production of hell.
“I’m going to kill him,” she murmured. “If I get my hands on Packy, I’m going to strangle him.”
April didn’t bother to enter the building, staying instead near the entrance. She didn’t think the ceiling looked safe. “I don’t trust the guy, but it might not have been him.”
Lauren turned on her. “How many crazy pyromaniacs are you going to find in one city?”
April gave it some thought. “A lot, actually.”
“This isn’t Chicago. Or Baltimore. Oh my God, all these books. Why?”
She picked up the remnants of a children’s book, the colorful cover picture reduced to dusky cinnamon hues.
“Things are bad enough already,” she said. “We don’t need this now.”
“Come on out of there,” said April, “before the rest collapses.”
Outside, they checked the coast was clear before moving off. After on
ly a couple of blocks, April drew Lauren into a store doorway.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said.
“It’s not about Scott again, is it?”
“No. It’s this fire. What if this nut lit it, knowing we’d investigate? What if he’s watching from a distance now, waiting to follow us?”
Lauren shrank back farther into the shadows. “That’s a good point. But why would he do that just for us?”
“Not just us. Anyone. I mean, it’s a pretty good guess that we’d investigate. He knows we’re around. But that smoke could be seen for miles yesterday. It’s like a beacon. Could bring a bunch of inquisitive folks. All he has to do is wait. It’s the kind of trick I’d do if I wanted to follow folks and steal their stuff.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“No, but if I was that kind of person, it would be a pretty cool trick.”
“Yesterday you were saying he was crazy.”
“And there’s still a good chance of that, but now I’m kind of wondering. The really crazy people are probably dead by now, or getting close to it. The ones that thrive in times like these are the wolves. Cunning, not crazy.”
Lauren screwed up her face. “Not sure I buy that, but it makes sense to be wary. I don’t want anybody following me back to my kids.”
“Me neither.”
“Okay, forget the street. We’ll push through this building and detour around. And if I see him, I will shoot, this time.”
They spent a couple of hours moving in an erratic pattern across the cityscape, stopping every so often to wait in ambush for anyone who might be tracking them, but nothing emerged from the gray squall. By the time they made it home, they were soaking wet. Scott was nailing up the last of the chain-link on the windows.
“Did you fall in the creek, or something?” he said.
The rain whipped against the glass.
“Got plenty of towels upstairs,” he continued. “You’d better get dry fast. In fact, I might consider lighting the stove. I don’t think anyone’s going to notice the smoke in this weather.”
“No,” said Lauren hastily. “We’re not taking that chance. Rick and Josh back yet?”