Looking Back Through Ash

by Wade Ebeling

  Daniel’s legs had grown tired of supporting all the extra weight and, as a result, had started to shake uncontrollably. This was noticed and openly mocked by a few of those walking past. Daniel paid them no heed, the giant was in charge, and the jackals wouldn’t do anything excessive without his say so. After all the crates and boxes had been stored in the orange dump truck, men started climbing in back or walking off, heading back down to the Warehouse.

  A few minutes later, Mack approached Daniel and his new responsibilities, carrying his rifle loosely. He was walking right up to the huddled group, already towering over them.

  “I…I…,” Daniel stammered.

  “Just shut yo’ mouth, ya skinny-ass fool!” Mack said, shooing away his few remaining cronies. “I ought ‘a bust your head open right here and now!”

  Terry took to whimpering again, sagging further down Daniel’s leg as he struggled to hold everybody upright. Leslie, thankfully, had fallen asleep, and was breathing foggily on his neck.

  Daniel did not want to die here like this. His brain counted the amount of workers still in range to react when he made his move. There were still too many, but he had little choice now. He prepared himself to drop Leslie and bring the heavy bag into play. If he could smash this monster on the head, hopefully knocking him to the ground, he might have enough time to get the girls back through the hole in the wall. They might even have enough time to hide somewhere in the darkness. He would have to strike fast…

  Mack moved a step closer. Almost in range.

  Daniel steeled his spine, he was getting ready to strike.

  The giant man leaned forward, looking Daniel in the eyes. The last of his men turned and walked away, as though they didn’t want to watch what was about to happen. Daniel readied himself to drop, spin, and smash. He just wished he could give Terry some kind of warning, as she would need to keep up or risk being left behind.

  “You got the keys to that truck?” Mack asked Daniel quietly, his urban dialect conspicuously absent.

  “Uh…Yeah. I took them…off of Bob…guy in the basement…”

  Mack raised a giant hand to stop him, like he already knew what Daniel was going to say. “I thought so…” was all the man said in reply.

  Mack relaxed his grip on the rifle, and the barrel pointed safely at the ground. He then looked behind him, as if to check for eavesdroppers.

  This was Daniel’s chance. He started lowering Leslie closer to the ground.

  Terry, sensing his building tension, gently laid her hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her properly for the first time. Her voice was clear, and her sky-blue eyes bloodshot, when she said, “No matter what happens…I love you.”

  “I…I love you, too,” Daniel whispered breathlessly.

  Mack had watched the end of the display, and Daniel’s moment had passed.

  Resignation set in for the first time. If Daniel had hit this man with the bag, all three of them would die within ten feet of where they stood now. There was no escape. His thoughts and emotions went to Rebecca and Corrine, causing him to hug Leslie and Terry tighter than he should have. With this one act of affection, Daniel had anointed them his surrogate family, and they would all die together this time, he would make sure of that.

  Daniel wanted this over quickly. He released Terry and shifted Leslie over to his left arm to fish in his right pocket for the keys, holding them out for the giant to take afterward.

  Mack just stared at him.

  Daniel jingled the keys before him, ready to get on with whatever was coming. Just then a curious thought passed through his mind; he wondered if his father was buried somewhere in the backyard of the Tudor house. Strange as it was, the possibility of dying next to his father’s grave calmed him a bit. Besides, it hadn’t been a total loss; Bob Donner was dead, as were Troy Campbell and Susan Locke.

  It was enough.

  “I don’t want ‘em. Ratty-ass truck…” Mack said, sounding slightly offended.

  The orange dump truck had started back up. Daniel looked around them once again, now noticing that all of the workers had either walked off by now or were sitting in the dump truck staring at them. The parking lot was empty, no doubt cleared out for their rapidly approaching execution. Daniel dropped the keys on the asphalt, grabbing Terry tight with his free hand.

  The three of them were so close that they shared the same air; it was beautiful. Daniel was ready to die.

  “You might want to keep those…Y’all have somewhere to go?” Mack asked, instantly breaking Daniel out of his fear-induced stupor.

  “What?” Daniel heard himself ask. Was this monster looking for even more victims? Did he expect to be taken somewhere else?

  “I wouldn’t come back to that building, if I were you. That lot, behind me, thinks I should just kill you and give them girls out like some kinda party favor…Don’t give ‘em a reason…” Mack warned.

  With that, Mack Jones turned and walked away. Making it to the awaiting truck in five long strides, and sitting heavily on the tailgate. He slapped the side of the truck twice, and it started moving forward. Mack lifted his dragging feet as the truck did a three-point turn to reverse course.

  The second the truck turned south on Klondike, and its passengers were safely out of view, Daniel crouched to find the dropped keys. Once they were back in hand, he had to struggle to get the girls over to the truck single-handedly. Terry had lost what little energy she had left and Leslie felt like a sack of bricks at this point. It was excruciatingly slow going, especially with concerns of the dump truck coming back.

  Upon reaching the driver’s side door, Daniel unlocked it and flung it open. Terry took a very long time to shimmy and shift, inches at a time, all the way over to the passenger seat. Daniel did not help, as he felt she could probably do without anyone touching her at the moment. Leslie woke and started struggling to keep ahold of Daniel’s neck the second he tried to let her go. Daniel took the small canvas bag from his squished groin area and tossed it onto the middle jump seat, so he could grab the squirming girl with both hands, and sit down in the truck with her across his lap.

  He shut the door and started the engine. Terry started to cry softly. Daniel wasted no time crossing the parking lot, noting that the rear differential no longer clicked ominously when he turned to head north. Daniel was still in shock at the sudden turn of events, certain that the orange dump truck would soon appear in his mirrors; ending the cruel joke. But there were no lights to be seen anywhere around, and Daniel, having checked several times already, knew this included behind them.

  They drove along the former supply route for a few minutes, the silence only broken by the occasional sniffle or cough. The headlights cut through the night, illuminating the narrow roadway that the D.o.C. had cleared through the destruction. This was usually just a single, straight track, but numerous turn-offs and passing lanes would have allowed for two-way travel.

  Leslie had finally decided to scoot off of Daniel and over onto the seat cushion, kicking her legs over Terry to use his leg as a pillow. He stroked her hair mindlessly, and Terry rubbed her legs numbly, until she had fallen back asleep. Daniel looked at Terry to speak, but he stopped when she crossed her arms to cover her bare, and obviously abused, breasts.

  “Take the wheel for a sec, will ya?” Daniel asked of her, slowing the truck down quite a bit.

  She made to form a complaint, but Daniel had already let go of the wheel, and he was obviously not going to chance stopping altogether, so she painfully reached over Leslie to keep the truck straight. Daniel pulled his t-shirt off, putting it over Terry’s arm, saying, “Sorry about the blood…” then he took the wheel back.

  “Thanks,” Terry said kindly. It took her several hiss and curse filled minutes to finally drag the damp fabric over her head and torso. Daniel never looked. Terry noticed this, compelling her to say more. “Thank you, Daniel. For…for…everything, I guess. Not sure, really, where to start…” She laughed, a single snort, but the memories were st
ill too fresh to find anything funny about them.

  “Well, don’t thank me just yet…”

  Daniel had never been this far north before, and the occasional campfire had started to pop up, dotting the otherwise darkened landscape as they drove by. They were now in the unprotected areas, still twelve miles south of the border crossing up at the quarantine line. Unfamiliar territory was everywhere he looked.

  “We can’t just keep going, you know?” Daniel finally said. “They aren’t gonna just let us out…”

  Terry did not answer. Daniel drove on in silence.

  They had no guns, no food, no water, no clothes, and no shelter. His stocked backpack had most certainly been taken, along with everything else stored at the concrete plant. The warehouse had fallen, but not into the right hands. His house had been burnt to the ground, along with all traces of his dead wife and daughter. He had a half-naked woman in the truck, who was battered and bruised beyond all belief, and a young girl, who felt more like an anchor than anything else at the moment. They had nothing but the truck, which would only draw more of the wrong kind of attention than anything else.

  Daniel realized that he had been mumbling all of these concerns, and that Terry was staring wide-eyed at him.

  “Sorry ‘bout that,” Daniel offered awkwardly.

  “Where’s the bag?” Terry asked.

  “What? Oh, the bag…Under Rebecca, I suppose. Why? What’s in it, a lead brick?”

  Terry moved Leslie’s legs to reach the bag, which was wedged beside her slowly rising and falling chest against the seat back. Setting the bag on the seat next to Daniel’s leg, zipper up, she withdrew her hand.

  “You should look…at what’s in there. That son-of-a-bitch liked to brag about it enough.”

  “Who? Bob, you mean?”

  “Yeah…It better be worth something! After all…that…pin-pricked fucker did to me! I mean…Sorry! I don’t mean to…” She started crying again, but forced herself nearly composed. “Oh, just open it,” Terry finally said, turning away from him and back to her thoughts.

  Certain that he would not be impressed by what was in the bag, Daniel unzipped it.

  The End