“Fuck yeah, I made it. Those fuckin’ things tried to come in here but I capped their asses. And ever since I boarded up the windows and shit, everything’s been cool.”
“That’s great man, good to hear.”
“How your women doin’, Maggie and . . . Cathy?” Brock skeptically asks.
“It’s Kristie, and—yeah, they’re fine. How about your girl, she okay?”
He looks away and turns to walk in the other room. “Nah, dude, she’s gone.” He starts to walk away. “But come on in, make yourselves at home.”
Eric looks at Nate with wide eyes and mouths ‘what,’ once he knows Brock can’t see him. Nate responds with rubbing his neck and shrugging his shoulders, then points in the direction he walked. Eric throws up his hands and then follows Brock down the hall and into the living room.
A warm fire is going and candles are lit all around the room revealing a good amount of supplies. And the fact that it reeks of pot instantly lifts Eric’s spirit and most likely Nate’s as well. Brock sets his shotgun next to his chair and near a bunch of other weapons leaning against the wall and sits down.
“So what do you mean she’s gone? Where did she go?”
Brock fumbles around obviously trying to avoid eye contact. “Ah—ah, she ah—took off for her parents house soon after Denver was napalmed.” He reaches for something next to the recliner and pulls out a huge bag of weed.
The radio goes off and a faint muffled voice can be heard from Eric’s jacket. Both Eric and Nate proceed to remove their warm clothes and then slowly lower to the couch, only glancing at each other briefly, and Eric reaches into his pocket and turns off the radio. “Wait, what? She took off to her parents house? And you mean you didn’t go with her?”
Brock tosses the bag on the table and nervously picks up a mirror and proceeds to snort a line of coke in both nostrils, then passes the mirror to Nate. “You guys want a bump?”
Nate waves it off and shakes his head. “Nah, dude, I’ll pass on that shit, I wouldn’t mind hittin’ that bong, though.”
After Brock motions the mirror in Eric’s direction getting the same response, he pulls out a bud and packs the bowl, then passes it and a lighter to Nate. Nate lights the bud and takes a huge hit and holds it for a second, and then takes a second to admire such a massive plum of smoke that instantly fills the room once he expels it from his lungs.
“Holy shit, dude, that’s some good cron’, dude.”
He hands the bong and lighter to Eric who proceeds to take a far smaller hit, and coughs when he exhales. Eric passes the bong back to Nate who then passes it to Brock, who picks up another lighter and takes a hit. They pass the bong around a bunch of times, packing fresh bowls many times. It’s almost impossible to see through the giant cloud of smoke that doesn’t seem to want to dissipate and only grows thicker.
Nate finally waves the bong off when it’s passed to him, and Brock puts it on the table. “So what were we talkin’ ‘bout before we got really—really high.” He gives a typical stoner laugh and looks at Eric for enlightenment but is only met with a blank grin and a bewildered stare. “Well, you’re clearly useless.” He laughs again and looks back over to Brock and picks at his beard while he stares at the expressionless look on his face, trying desperately to remember what they were talking about, but he can’t for the life of him remember what it was; he just knew it was important.
Brock responds like he could feel Nate’s eyes on him by jerking out of his seat and pulling out a Ziploc bag containing a large amount of coke.
“Damn, dude! Where the fuck did you get that?” Nate asks.
Brock instantly stops sifting the coke on the mirror, and drops his head and shoulders, like he just realized he’d just made a big mistake. “Dude, I really don’t wanna talk about it, I’m over it. She’s gone.” He goes back sifting the coke into lines and then snorts them.
Nate thinks for a minute and then finally speaks. “Wait, what, you’re over what? Wait—oh yeah, that’s what we were talking about—your girl. . . I remembered—yes!” He juts his chin and bobs his head in a display of smugness that only a hardcore stoner could appreciate. He eventually realizes how pathetic he would look if the girls were here and quickly shakes off his expression and furrows his brow when he looks back at Brock. “So what does the coke have to do with your girl? I’m confused.”
Brock continues to snort lines trying to avoid the question, but Nate persists and eventually gets him to say something. “Dude, we got in a fight. She took off in her car across town to her parents house, and that’s the last I’ve heard of her. End of story, alright.” He puts the mirror down and sits back in his seat, sweating profusely while squirming in his seat.
“Ah—well alrighty then. Well hey, bro, we gotta get back. The girls are gonna be super pissed we haven’t responded to them.” He hits Eric’s chest with his arm in an attempt to snap him out of his daze. “Dude, snap out of it, turn the radio back on we gotta tell them were okay.”
Eric closes his gaping mouth and looks over at Nate and stares. “Oh yeah—the girls, I totally forgot.” He reaches into his pocket and clicks on the radio just to catch Maggie’s last few words. “Maggie—it’s Eric—we’re fine and we’re ah—headin’ back soon.”
After a brief silence, Maggie can be heard on the radio. “Are you guys alright? We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for over an hour. What the hell are you doing!”
“We’re fine, we’re fine. Brocks alive, and we’ve just been ah—hangin’ out.”
“—Hanging out. What do you mean ‘hanging out’? Did you use his radio? You know—the reason why you went over there in the first place?”
“Ah—well, not yet. We, ah—got distracted.”
Brock waves his hand parallel to his body and talks over what Maggie was saying. “Dude, tell her I haven’t been able to get ahold of anyone so far, I’ve been trying.
Eric lights up and quickly presses the button. “Ah hey, Mags, Brock said he’s been tryin’, but hasn’t been able to get a hold of anyone.” He lets go of the button, hoping for a positive response, but only receives a brief silence.
“Just get back over here.”
“Copy that, we’re on our way.”
He immediately hops up and looks at Nate to do the same. Nate slowly gets off the couch and outstretches his arms and yawns, then looks over at Brock. “Dude could you hook us up with some nugs?”
Looking relieved, Brock grabs his bag and pulls out a handful of buds and tries to hand them to Nate. “Here ya go, bro.”
Nate looks around and puts up his hands, showing his palms. “Thanks, man. But ah—any chance you got somethin’ to put that in?”
“Yeah—sure, sure, no problem.” He looks around on the table and eventually finds a small bag to put them in. He loads up the bag and hands it to Nate, who again thanks him and gives him a huge smile.
Eric suspiciously looks at Brock, obviously surprised by the generous gift. “Ah—well hey thanks, dude. By the way, do you have a walkie-talkie we can contact you on, or will your special radio work?”
“Yeah, dude, as long as we’re on the same frequency it should work, especially if you’ve been able to contact Maggie.”
“Okay, cool, we’ll try contacting you once we’ve gotten back home so have your scanner on.”
“Will do, bro, well hey, thanks for stoppin’ by. And we’ll be in contact.”
“Right on.” He turns to walk out but then stops. “Hey this is probably a long shot but any chance you have any Matcha tea? Maggie might not kill me if I can bring something back, may smooth things over.”
“I do, actually. Tammy used to drink it. Help yourself, it’s in a cabinet in the kitchen next to the fridge.”
Eric thanks Brock and goes into the kitchen and finds the cabinet next to the refrigerator and opens it. He’s instantly surprised by the amount of food packed into the cabinet and finally finds the tea after moving things around. He closes the door and peers around the corner a
nd down the hall. He sneaks over to the pantry and opens the door. He shines a light that illuminates an even larger stash of food. He quietly closes the door and makes his way back down the hall and into the living room where Nate and Brock are talking.
They put back on their gear and do their best to cover the gaps in their clothing, but not with much success. They eventually finish dressing and walk to the back door where they give a one-arm hug and then Brock unlocks the back door. Again they are shocked with a brutal wind and snow gust as soon as they open the door, but they hesitantly exit the warmth and enter the dim light of a barely visible falling sun.
* * *
They trudge back through the snow the way they came, but the fence is flat on this side with no horizontal pieces of wood to put their foot on to get over. So they follow the fence line to the back gate and have to do the same rocking back and forth to get it open.
They slip out the gate and push their way through the frozen bodies surrounded by feet of snow, and eventually get to their gate which fortuitously didn’t lock. They push the door open and enter the backyard and turn back to lock the gate. They easily make their way back through their tracks and get to the back door and yell into the radio to open up. They shortly after see the steel door open, followed by the house door opening with Maggie and Kristie standing in the doorway holding assault rifles.
They rush into the house and slam the door behind them, and Maggie relocks the door and radios to reengage the steel reinforcements. They remove their winter clothes and run into the living room and over to the fire, their visible shivering slows after a few minutes in front of the fire.
Maggie hands them both a cup of tea and waits for them to stop shaking. “As soon as you guys are warm, please feel free to explain what happened over there.”
Eric and Nate both nod in agreement and then turn back to the fire. Nate takes a few sips of tea and turns back to Kristie and Maggie. “Ah—sorry we took so long, but we just got caught up talkin’ to Brock.”
Kristie sharply turns toward Nate and crosses her arms. “Wait, please tell me you guys didn’t get stoned with him.” She looks over at Maggie with a look of concern and they wait for a response.
Nate looks at Eric who looks like a deer in headlight, and not saying a word. “I mean, not really. Just a little bit, he offered and we didn’t want to be rude so we just smoked a tiny little bowl. It was no big deal, we really didn’t get that high.”
Kristie shakes her head and looks away from them, unsurprised.
Eric glances up at Maggie who looks very disappointed, and mouths, ‘I’m sorry’ and then drops his head. He looks over at Nate who’s obviously going into damage control mode, searching for the words that will hopefully get them out of this.
“Listen . . . in hindsight getting stoned at a time like this was probably not the best choice to make.”
Kristie wipes a tear from her cheek and looks at Nate with piercing eyes. “Gee, ya think!”
“I know, I know. But the good thing is—Brock is still alive, but what’s strange is that his girlfriend isn’t there; he said they got in a fight, and she went back to her parents’ house across town.”
Maggie squeezes her eyes and pinches the top of her nose and then looks up at everyone. “What are you talking about? Tammy was a student here from out of state; her parents don’t live across town.”
Nate’s face blanches as he cranes his head to look at Maggie, obviously stunned by her words. “What! What do you mean? Are you tellin’ me her parents don’t live here?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. I’ve talked to her a few times, and I distinctly remember her saying she was from L.A., and we talked about if we liked Disney World or Disneyland better. So I’m positive.”
“Holy shit, dude, I knew something was off when he was tellin’ us this; it was like pulling teeth getting him to talk. You don’t think he killed her or something, do you?”
Everyone turns to look at Nate and then back to Maggie. “What! I highly doubt it. What, is he starving to death or something and you think he resorted to cannibalism?”
Nate turns his head to the side and contemplates the accusation, but then Eric speaks up. “He had a ton of food in his cabinets and pantry when I went to get—oh wait, I have something for you!” He jumps up and goes into the other room and soon returns with his jacket and pulls out the Matcha tea. “It’s your lucky day! Look what he had!”
He hands the tin to Maggie who’s momentary look of bliss is replaced with an obvious hurt look in her eyes. He just drops his head and looks back at Nate. “Anyway, I don’t think he’s a cannibal, cause he had a ton of food.”
Nate stands up and puts his hands on his hips. “He did have an unlikely large stash of supplies. Like a bunch of guns and a bunch of coke and weed, which I don’t remember him having last time we saw him. Which reminds me, we said we would contact him when we got back, he said he would be scanning for our channel.”
Maggie spreads her hands and reveals her palms. “Wait, why didn’t you just write down what frequency he was on?”
Nate looks at Eric dumbfounded and speechless.
“Forget it, you morons, let’s just go downstairs and radio him.”
“Oh yeah, I was just going to use the walkie-talkie, but the CB radio will probably work better.”
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head and then walks away and goes downstairs to the radio, followed by everyone. She picks up the microphone but hesitates and turns around in her seat. “I’ve been broadcasting on this thing for weeks. How have we not picked up his broadcast or he pick up ours when we both have scanners? Tell me how that’s possible?”
Nate jerks his head back and opens his mouth. “Ah—well—I don’t know. That’s a very good question. You’ll have to ask him that.”
She turns back around and proceeds to broadcast her transmission over and over again, but with no answer. Kristie pushes her way through the guys and sits down next to Maggie. She waits for a few more times for Maggie to repeat her words before she begins to scan channels.
After twenty minutes of broadcasting, Maggie stops, puts down the mic, and then turns around. “What’s with this guy, how are we not getting through to him? This doesn’t make any sense.” She rubs her temples with one hand and looks around the room at the blank stares from everyone, obviously just as confused as she is. “Alright, I’m going to put it back to automatic mode, if he hears us he hears us.”
Eric looks at her confused. “Wait, what’s automatic mode?”
“Auto mode broadcasts a prerecorded message every minute, and waits for a reply. It will alert us if anyone makes contact. So we’ll go from there.”
Kristie looks right at Eric and then Nate and says in a shrewd voice, “How do you two not know that, we’ve been running it for weeks now. What have you been doing around here!”
Nate crosses his arms and shakes his head. “Wow! You know just risking our lives going outside for you.”
“For me, you went out there looking for weed and when you found it, forgot why you went over there in the first place!” Kristie jumps out of her chair, nearly knocking it over, and begins to walk out of the bunker when she stops and turns to look at Nate. He drops his head and mumbles some profanity and follows his girlfriend out of the bunker. Sam and Jen say nothing while they quietly sneak out of the room just as Eric grabs Maggie’s arm before she can walk past him.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking when I decided to get high. It was really dumb. I’m so sorry, babe, please don’t be mad at me.” He tries to lift her chin with his finger, but she just turns her head away and crosses her arms.
“No, Eric, I’m not mad at you. I’m just really disappointed, that’s all.”
“Disappointed—come on, what are you my parents—disappointed.” He puts his hand down and puts his hands on his hips.
She pulls her arms up closer to her chest and shakes her head. “Eric, you’re my boyfriend, my protector. And, yes, in
times like these where literally our lives are at stake and our basic survival is tested, you’re out getting high with your friends. So when my man—my protector—and his equally male friend decides to not only risk his life, but everyone else’s life including mine. . . so yes, Eric, I’m not only very mad and pissed off at you, I’m overall just very disappointed in you. You really let me down. Now can I go upstairs? It’s cold down here.”
Eric drops his head and she walks past him and out of the basement. He soon follows, whispering profanities along the way.
Chapter 9
Peter can’t stop shaking his leg as he sits and stares at the front door; same thought repeating in his head—they’re still alive, they’re still alive. The words branding themselves on his brain finally overcoming his restraint and he leaps out of the chair. Without even grabbing his weapon, he moves to the front door and begins unlocking it.
Kelly drops what she’s doing once she notices what he’s doing, and she rushes over to try and stop him. “Peter! What the hell are you doing?”
He blocks her from stopping him and as soon as he unlocks it, he turns the handle and opens the door. She again tries to stop him, but he’s just too strong. She backs up and yells. “Simon, Dave, Jason, get in here now!”
He opens the storm door and is able to get his arm up just before a blast of wind and snow hits him like a fire hose. Kelly backs up just as the snow flies in, and she yells out again.
But Peter is already outside and has latched onto one of the frozen bodies and proceeds to rock it back and forth. Right when he hears someone coming up behind him, he wraps his arms around the stiff right before he feels two hands grab him. He holds on as tight as he can while he gets pulled backward, and he feels it finally budge, and all three fall back and stack up on the ground.
Peter knows someone is yelling at him, but he can’t tell who it is. He’s dragged into the house still holding onto the corpse. He can finally determine who was yelling at him once he sees his dad standing over him, looking at him like he’s crazy.
The Ark Series (Book 2): The Ark of Attrition Page 5