by Hunt, Jack
“Distractions,” he said. Attempts at luring away emergency services so people could loot stores, was the general consensus.
Before leaving, Elliot had doubled back to see if the truck was there. Of course, it wasn’t, the cops were probably using it, but he had to check. They figured that it would be easier to find a couple of bicycles in the city than an older model vehicle, but until they were out of the Bronx, Elliot said it was best they stuck to hiking as vehicles and bikes only seemed to attract unwanted attention.
For the most part, people left them alone as they trudged north. On foot the journey of two hundred and eighty miles would take over four days; by bike, twenty-eight hours; and by vehicle, five hours. The journey would take them up around the Hudson River, through Albany and via Chestertown. That’s why Elliot hadn’t given up on finding another vehicle. Every old-looking truck, car or van they passed, he stopped at to check if they could get it working. This meant a lot of stopping and starting.
It was around two in the afternoon when they came across a bike shop on the outskirts of Kingsbridge. All of them were exhausted and by the looks of the store the owners had taken measures to ensure no one got in. The steel shutters were down, and two locks had been clamped into place with a warning sign.
Jesse looked up at the apartment above it and wondered if it was even worth it.
“So what do you want to do?”
“Well I can tell you what I don’t want to do,” Damon said, leaning against the wall and slumping down on his ass. He pulled his boots off and rubbed his feet.
“I’m going around back,” Elliot added.
“You did read the sign, right?” Jesse said, pointing to the warning about how attempts to break in would be met with extreme violence.
“It’s a ploy.”
“What?”
“No one puts up a sign outside if they are armed to the teeth. They have no reason.”
“Of course they do. They don’t want people tearing up the shutters with a forklift.”
Jesse frowned and tossed a hand up. “It’s a bike shop.”
“And that means it’s valuable. The bicycle was invented long before the car.”
He chuckled and headed around back. That was the thing about Elliot, he marched to the beat of his own drum. It was like he didn’t give a shit whether he lived or died. Now, Jesse had been the same way after losing Chloe. Heck, right up to the day of the blackout he would have willingly taken a bullet to the head, but something had changed in him after it all happened. It was like a wake-up call, making him realize how valuable life was.
“I’ll go with him.”
“You do that,” Damon said. “I’ll just rub my feet. Or maybe you can do it, Maggie.”
“In your dreams,” she said.
“Darling, I’ve spent eight months dreaming about it.”
Jesse followed him around to a parking lot that was hedged in by a chain-link fence. At the corner of the building was a set of steps that went up to a door. They climbed them and then Elliot gave the door handle a try. It was locked. No surprise there. He then climbed out and up onto the top of the metal that covered the staircase, reached up and pulled himself up the wall onto the roof of the two-story building. Jesse followed him, convinced this wouldn’t end well. Even though they hadn’t seen any police in a while, his nerves were on edge.
“You’re determined, aren’t you?” he said as followed him over to a skylight. Elliot didn’t say a word, he glanced in and pulled out his gun and used the butt to smash the glass. It dropped down about ten feet into a loft-style apartment.
“My kids are at home. I have no choice.”
“But you left them behind.”
“And?”
“It just strikes me that if you actually cared for them, you wouldn’t wait until the shit hits the fan.”
“I didn’t.”
“But you still left.”
He shook his head and carefully climbed over the lip and dropped into what appeared to be an abandoned apartment. Once he was down he brushed off some glass that had embedded in his bicycle gloves and gazed around the spacious abode. There were large windows on either side of the building to let in a lot of natural light. Elliot must have been bothered by his question as he turned after reaching the door and stuck his finger in Jesse’s face.
“You haven’t got a clue what I’ve been through.”
“Maybe not but I know I wouldn’t have left my family behind.”
“So what, you think you’re better than me?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not saying that.”
“Then shut the hell up.”
They made their way to the main door and were about to exit and head down a staircase for the store when they heard a man’s voice bellow for them to stay right where they were.
“Don’t move. You even breathe and I will drop you.”
Both of them lifted their hands. Jesse knew Elliot was going to try something. He just hoped he didn’t get them killed. Before he did, he thought he would at least try to get the guy to relax.
“We just need a couple of bikes,” Jesse blurted out.
“And you thought breaking in was the way to get them?”
“Well forgive me, but your store wasn’t open,” Elliot added.
“That’s right. Because of headcases like you two. Now pay attention. You are going to exit, head down the steps and go straight out the door at the bottom. Do not enter the store. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.”
Jesse frowned, then grinned. “Monopoly?”
“Go. Now!”
They hadn’t even seen the guy’s face. Jesse turned a little, and he was quickly told to look ahead.
“I’ve got money,” he blurted out.
“And I’ve got a gun,” the guy said making it clear he wasn’t in the mood for a transaction. They were lucky they didn’t get a bullet in the head. As they walked down the stairs, he kept telling them to keep their hands where he could see them. He hadn’t checked for weapons which was either stupid or a smart move on his part. It could have gone either way.
“You a bike messenger?” the guy asked as they continued on down.
“Yeah.”
“I recognized the clothing and sponsors. Who did you work for?”
“A few shitty companies. I doubt you’ve heard of them.”
“We actually supply a number of messengers with bikes.”
“Well maybe you can give us four.”
“Four? Stop right where you are.” They froze. “Where are the other two?”
“Outside.”
Jesse turned. He knew he was taking a risk, but he got a sense through the questions that he wasn’t going to shoot them and if he did, well, it wouldn’t have been the worst place to die. He stared up the stairs at the man. He was in his late twenties, a bit of a hipster with a plaid shirt, a white V-neck, tight black jeans, designer specs and a beanie. He had a gaunt face and looked like he could have done with eating a burger or two.
“How many bikes do you have in this place?” Jesse asked.
He jerked the muzzle of his 9mm. “Turn around and keep moving.”
“Look, man, my friend needs to get home to his kids. We’ve got a long way to travel and—”
“Do I look like I give a fuck?”
Jesse started laughing.
The man frowned. “What’s so damn funny?”
“Two guys break into your apartment, hoping to take four of your bikes and you’re here defending it at all costs like you’re expecting the world to go back to normal.”
“I don’t expect anything. Now I’m doing you a favor. You can either walk out that door, or I’ll put a bullet in both of you and not lose a wink of sleep tonight. Your choice!”
“Well now you put it that way, we’ll be on our way,” Jesse said turning back towards the exit and following Elliot out. As soon as they were outside, the steel door slammed behind them and they heard a bolt lock in place.
&n
bsp; “Um, those look like some fine bikes,” Damon said, still rubbing the bottom of his sole.
“Very funny, smart ass,” Jesse replied.
“Let’s keep on moving,” Elliot said.
“Keep on moving?” Damon said as he rose to his feet. “I have a blister on the bottom of my toe, my thighs are killing me, and you want to keep moving?”
“Look, you want to stay here? Be my guest but we are wasting time.”
“You were armed, and you didn’t shoot this guy?”
“He had a gun on us,” Jesse said. “What do you expect us to do?”
“And? So did the guy in the cemetery, and the one in Brooklyn. That didn’t stop you then.”
“He’s just trying to protect his livelihood,” Jesse said turning and continuing on a few more steps before looking back. Damon was staring up at the steps that led back to the roof. Without saying a word, he entered the parking lot and began climbing.
“Damon!” Maggie said.
“No, fuck this. The guy probably has fifty bikes in the store and he can’t give us four? I’ve dealt with eight months inside a hellhole, come out to find the world gone to shit and now some asshole is trying to protect a few pieces of metal?”
Maggie looked at Jesse and he shrugged. “What do you expect me to do?”
“He’ll get himself killed. Go after him.”
He waved her off. “He’s big enough to deal with it himself. I’m with Elliot on this one. We move on.”
Elliot watched Damon climb up onto the roof like a monkey. He moved with purpose. “Actually, let’s see how he does.”
“Are you serious?”
He shrugged and hopped up onto the hood of a Ford SUV.
A few minutes passed and then the sound of gunfire erupted. It was rapid and then it stopped. Seconds passed, then the door opened at the bottom. Damon emerged with a straight laced face. “Well? You coming in or what?”
“You killed him?”
“No. I just gave him something to think about.”
When they walked inside, the guy was sitting on the floor of his store without a weapon and uninjured. How the hell Damon had managed to pull that off was a mystery. Even after they rode off on four mountain bikes, Damon wouldn’t say.
Chapter 23
The bike ride out of the city wasn’t an easy one. They would head north on U.S. 9 and then in the last few hours switch over to NY-73 Eest. Though he didn’t know what he would say to Rayna when he returned, it felt good to be going home. He couldn’t begin to imagine how much the kids had grown, and he was eager to see the look on Kong’s face. Now that they had bikes, Elliot figured that if they didn’t stop, they could be in Lake Placid within a day and a half, but that idea went out the window the more Maggie lagged behind. They had to stop so she could take breaks and that was only slowing them down.
Along the way they saw all manner of vehicles stalled. Elliot stopped a few times to check a few but none of them had started up like that old truck back in the Bronx.
By late afternoon, they hadn’t covered much in the way of distance, but they had managed to make it as far as Kitchewan near the New Croton Reservoir. They decided to stop so Maggie could rest her leg and have a bite to eat. Damon was still griping about his toe. The only one who still looked fresh-faced was Jesse.
“How many miles did you used to do, Jesse?” Elliot asked.
“Anywhere from 40 to 60 miles a day.”
“So this must be a piece of cake to you?”
“Different kind of riding as I would stop frequently to deliver packages but yeah, overall an easy day, I guess.”
“And before that?”
“Banking. Investing. Spent most of my day looking at the stock market. Helping people with their portfolios over the phone. Good money but hated being inside.”
“That’s why I joined the army,” Elliot said biting into a banana and leaning back on a grassy embankment. They’d rested their bikes in front of them. Elliot had taken the higher ground so he could keep an eye out for trouble. They’d seen a number of desperate people along the way but they didn’t stop.
“How many years?”
“Sixteen,” Elliot muttered as he chewed. Once he was done, he tapped out a cigarette and lit up before taking a swig of water. They ended up refilling their containers from the river.
“Would you go back?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve thought about it at times, but it wouldn’t be the same.”
“Did you lose a lot of friends?”
“Everyone has.”
There was silence as they took the time to recharge their internal battery. A cold wind nipped at Elliot’s ears and a gray sky threatened rain.
“You said you have kids?” Maggie asked, squinting as she chewed on some peaches from a can that Jesse had brought along.
“Two. A boy and a girl.”
“How old?”
“What is this, twenty questions?”
“Sorry, just curious.”
He was hesitant to answer then he replied, “Fourteen and thirteen.”
“You must miss them.”
“Every day.”
He knew what she was going to ask next as the same thing had gone through Jesse’s mind. Everyone wanted to know why he would walk away from his kids. It wasn’t anything they had done, neither was it anything to do with Rayna. He loved her more than life itself but it was for their own safety. Time away had taught him a lot. It had allowed him to reflect upon what he’d been through. Listening to the group therapy sessions, even if he wasn’t involved, had made him understand that he had done the best he could under the conditions. The horrible things he’d seen in Iraq weren’t his fault. They were just part and parcel of war.
“What will you say when you return?”
“I’ve thought about that a lot over the past twelve months and to be honest, I don’t know. I don’t expect them to welcome me with open arms or accept what I did, but I did what I thought was best at the time for them, for me, for everyone.” The three listened to him without passing judgment. It was easy to judge, harder to listen.
“Do you feel any guilt over killing those men back there?” Jesse asked.
He shot him a glance. “Well let me ask you this, do you feel any relief over being alive?”
That pretty much answered that and he expected him to back off but he didn’t.
“No, I appreciate what you did, I’m just trying to understand what you feel when you take a life.”
“Why?”
“Because maybe I’ll have to take one.”
Elliot scrutinized him before replying. “When you put it that way, sure, I’ll answer you. No. I don’t feel any guilt. When it comes down to it, it’s either you or them and I can tell you right now, it will always be me standing.”
Jesse nodded and took a swig from his bottle. He rolled his head around and got up and stretched. “You should all do it. Stops your muscles from cramping up.”
Damon snorted. Jesse glanced at his watch.
“You still living by that?”
“Just seeing how long we’ve been on the road.” He put his water bottle back in the bag. “It will be dark soon. We’ll need to camp. We should get moving.”
“Dear me, we only just got here,” Damon said. “Slow down. You might be used to riding sixty miles a day but I’m not. I’ve been penned up for the last eight months. The only exercise I’ve seen is a few laps around the yard.”
“So what was it like inside?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I’m curious.”
“Don’t be. Curiosity is what killed the cat, and you strike me as a real pussy,” he said before smirking. “Look, it’s a different way of life inside. You have to keep looking over your shoulder. You don’t really know who your friends are and you’re never fully rested.”
“So you should be able to cope with all this then,” Jesse joked.
“I guess.” He stared at him for a second or two. “Wh
y did you change your mind?”
“What?” Jesse said as he slipped his arm into his backpack strap.
“You were going to stay in Brooklyn. Why did you change your mind?”
He glanced at Maggie, and Elliot smiled. The power of a woman. Of course, Jesse didn’t say that, he cleared his throat. “There was nothing for me in Brooklyn. Anyway, I always wanted to visit Lake Placid.”
“I bet you did,” Damon said, a smile dancing on his face as his eyes bounced from Jesse to Maggie.
Maggie must have noticed as she frowned. “What?”
Damon gulped down some water and wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve before getting up. “You got any more smokes, Elliot?”
“I’m afraid I’m all out,” he said rising to his feet and preparing for the long journey ahead. Twenty minutes later they were back on the road, weaving around stalled vehicles, passing by strangers who looked on with a deer in the headlights look. Elliot kept the pace steady; he had to if they were to cover as much distance as possible. Maggie fell back a few times but did her best to keep up. As Elliot rode on, his mind chewed over the question Maggie had asked about what he would say when he returned. There were few things that scared him in the twelve months he lived under New York City’s streets, and rubbed shoulders with drug addicts, but the thought of seeing Rayna again ate away at him. What if she rejected him? It wasn’t like he was coming home to pick up where he’d left off. He knew he couldn’t do that. For all he knew she might have been living with someone else by now. He wouldn’t have faulted her if she’d moved on. Not once in twelve months had he contacted her, not even to say that he was alive and well.
The fact was Lake Placid hadn’t been home in a long while. He wasn’t sure how his kids would react or if they would even allow him to step inside the house. Was he a lunatic for believing that there was hope? Not just for his relationship with his family but for society?