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When Gods Fail

Page 3

by Nelson Lowhim


  The look on their faces as they exchanged glances when I spoke, reminded me of how Paul looked at me before I entered the cave.

  "Can't do that either, I'm afraid," Johnny said and seemed genuinely sad. "Can't have scavengers in these hills. You'll just come back for us."

  Big Lee smiled; he didn't seem so sad.

  "It's the way of the world now. Nothing against you personally."

  "Of course not. Totally understandable," I said. The voice in the back of my head was speaking up for me. Cover your intentions. Dawn and dusk are the best times to attack because people's eyes are still adjusting to the light. You're next to a steep incline of the hill.

  My hand clasped around a rock.

  The old man looked at me suspiciously as he straightened his legs out.

  I threw the rock at his face. I spun as fast as I could towards the edge of the steep incline. In a second I was hurtling down the scree. I slid. I rolled. I couldn't control myself. The crack of a rifle echoed. A forest of rock formations came at me. Dark, in the crepuscule, they looked like they could hurt. A bullet whistled past me. I was sliding in too straight a line.

  "Git that bastard!" Johnny's yelled.

  I slid over scree, the sound like a freeway of trucks. My throat was tight. My heart pounded.

  With one hand dug into the scree, I turned to my left. A bullet landed on my right. The first big rock went by. I dug in both hands, slowed down, then grabbed the next boulder that jutted out from the side of this hill. As soon as I had grabbed the rock, and pulled myself behind it, I saw the scree where my ass had just been, burst into pieces. The sound of a shot followed.

  "Shoot him!"

  The rock tore off the skin on my fingers, but I didn't feel any pain. Why couldn't they just let me be? If I stayed here, they'd find a way to approach my crop of rocks and finish me off. And in the end I knew that I had to get some food. They were right about scavengers. I was going to have to come and get them.

  The sound of both of them skiing down the scree jumped my heart and stopped my thoughts.

  This group of boulders was the only place I could stand a chance of fighting. I grabbed a large stone. I grabbed a sharp one. I ran to some closely spaced boulders. Before I jumped on one, I glanced behind me to see the two men only a few yards from where I'd been.

  "Come on out boy. You're just makin' it harder on yourself."

  "Yeah, it can be quick or we can eat you piece by piece, hippie," Big Lee added.

  I faced a boulder twice my height. I looked for a hold, placed the rocks in my pocket and down the front of my pants, and started climbing. Soon I was on top.

  I looked down. Night had fallen and, without the moon or the stars, there was hardly a shape to be seen. I pulled the large rock out of my pants and laid it gently on the boulder. Silence drenched my senses. I stayed still and listened. My heart beat, the only sound in the night. The smell of my dried blood and sweat seemed overpowering. The temperature was dropping.

  Crunch, c r u n c h. Separate footsteps. So it would be easier. I would take the first person that came by me.

  Crunch. Ten yards away to my left. Another crunch and I knew it was moving away.

  Crunch. Right below me.

  I picked up the large stone and tried to make out a figure, but in the shadow of the boulders it was impossible. Just use the sound. Crunch. I hurtled the rock down with all my might. Then jumped.

  A satisfying crunch that sickened me sounded off. I landed on a heap of flesh. My legs buckled and air was pushed from my chest as I fell to my side. I crawled over towards the body, as it twitched. It was Johnny. His head caved in. I reached for his shotgun. Pain streaked through my body. I couldn't take much more abuse.

  "Johnny?" Big Lee's voice was very close. The pain disappeared.

  I tried to make out the safety on the shotgun. Footsteps, in a hurry. Getting closer.

  The gun seemed foreign to me. Footsteps closer. My heart was in my throat. I found the trigger and pointed towards the footsteps. When a black shape formed, I pulled the trigger, but it wouldn't budge. Closer. Three yards. I put two fingers on the trigger, the butt on my chest. Two yards away. Big shadow.

  "Johnny?" Big Lee said.

  I pulled with all my might.

  The sound and the recoil knocked me on my back. I forced myself up, cocked the shotgun and fired into the lump in front of me. Then again. I couldn't hear anything but the ringing in my ears. I stood over Big Lee, placed my barrel on his neck.

  He was breathing fast, loud. I couldn't see his face.

  "Please," Big Lee said. More wet breathing. Like a hamster in my hands. I was God. A rush of blood to my loins.

  "Don't," he said.

  "Don't take it personal." I pulled the trigger. A splash of blood hit my face. I turned back to where Johnny was. His body was still. I pointed my barrel at him. Then I remembered I would have to save bullets. I picked up the rock lodged in his head and raised it above my head. Don't take it personal. I slammed the rock into what remained of his face.

  Pain returned to all my limbs. I checked the men's pulses. Nothing. I took their weapons, bandoliers, Big Lee's backpack, and a set of keys. Switched clothes with Johnny. They fit perfectly. Then with my new gear, I climbed back up the boulder.

  I woke up the next day wondering if my agony would stop. The sharp hurt of yesterday had turned into dull knocks that screeched every time I moved. I leaned over to see the two bodies where I had left them. Insects were eating the corpses.

  Insects.

  From where? I hadn't seen any until now. Could be that they lived deep in the ground. They were always supposed to survive a nuclear holocaust. It was good to know the scientists were right about something. Insects could be food.

  I checked myself for insects. There were a few. I held my breath and swallowed a few after smashing them. Some taste lingered in my tongue, an odd chemical taste that made me gag.

  I climbed down. Looked at the two bodies. With my finger I let some ants crawl up then swallowed them too. I looked at Big Lee, the lower half of his head gone. "Please...Don't." A man had begged for mercy and I'd shown him none. What else could I have done? Why did I expect mercy when I was on the other side of the barrel, and yet when I held it I gave nothing? My knees went weak. I tried not to look at Johnny's face. What had I done? The stench from the two was overpowering. I walked away. I had to get back up. In case Paul and Bill returned to the cave.

  I slowly trudged up until I was at the mouth of the cave. I would have to find food. At least I knew there were insects around. The fact that the two corpses didn't attract any large animals was comforting. I looked around, at the shape of the mountains, at the landscape, so that I would know where I was if I was to return.

  Big Lee and Johnny had left a nice set of footprints to follow. I kept my eyes and ears pricked and followed the path. After an hour the footprints disappeared into rocks. I walked in the same direction but found nothing.

  What would I do in a cutthroat post-nuclear world where leaving tracks could mean my end? I backtracked and walked at a sharp angle from where the footprints had disappeared. After a few minutes I found tracks again and was surprised to see a makeshift shack in between some boulders near the peak of a hill, only a few hundred yards away.

  I retraced my steps once again and approached the abode from high ground. I lay down and listened. Ten minutes passed and not a sound. With my shotgun raised, I walked towards the entrance. I opened the lock with a set of keys, pushed the door ajar.

  A plethora of military rations stacked against the wall met my eyes. Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I smiled. Enough for one man to eat forever. I looked around. Nothing else. No hidden rooms. Just rocks and piles of odd containers. I started to eat.

  The food tasted amazing. A mix of spices and aromas overwhelmed my senses as I wondered how I was going to control myself from eating everything in sight. I would wait a day to gain my strength before heading out to Portland. There I would be able to se
e if my wife had survived.

  A feeling of emptiness came over me. Perhaps I knew that there would be nothing to find in Portland. That moment, the rush, jolt when I heard the rock crush Johnny's head filled my senses. I should've been elated to know that I'd lived, survived, and would now have food for the foreseeable future, but I killed two men for that privilege. I smashed a man's head in, and killed the other while he begged for mercy

  Please. Don't.

  The words rang in my head; some of his blood was still dry on my neck and face. I peeled off a flake of blood and threw it on the ground. I hadn't shown mercy. Why not? Shouldn't I have been the better man? What about God? Didn't He cause all this so that we could be better? I inhaled. I could feel their presence here.

  Why had they been so bent on coming after me? They seemed to have enough food to survive one more person coming here. Seemed foolish to run after me. I was not a threat. They must have known something. I should have questioned them—Big Lee at least. Not blown his neck and lower face out.

  Portland.

  Or get Bill and Paul?

  They would both come back for more water. Perhaps in a week. If they did, they would see the two bodies, or whatever the insects left of them, and they would figure out what happened.

  Leave Bill alone, something inside me whispered. Though I wasn't entirely certain what had happened, Bill must've let me live. No way a redneck in a post-nuclear-everyman-for-himself-age misses a shot from that close with a shotgun. Even I hadn't missed, and I hated guns.

  A canteen fell to the ground. I spun around.

  Nothing.

  But I kept still. There was no wind. The canteen could not have fallen on its own. If it was a rat I could eat it. Never thought I'd think that. Then my nostrils lit up. Sweat. Flesh. Someone was here. I glanced at the door on my periphery to make certain it was still shut. Check. On one side of the room stood a pile of boxes and ammunition cans that the canteen had been sitting on. Something could be hiding down there. I reached for my shotgun and pointed at the area. I heard something breathe.

  "Come out whoever you are." I placed my hand on the trigger.

  The breathing got louder.

  "I said come out or I'll start shooting." My nerves frayed. Adrenaline swam through my arteries. Whatever was hiding was going to die soon. I couldn't risk them getting a shot off.

  "Don't shoot," the voice said, soft, feminine, almost crying.

  So this was what Big Lee and Johnny were so protective about.

  I kept my shotgun out, after all a woman in this environment wouldn't necessarily be nice. "Come out, I won't hurt you," I said.

  She crawled out from what appeared to be a space behind the ammunition cans, still in the shadows. I could smell her more so than see her, and she smelled good. No perfume or any of that, but I could smell her sweat, body odor, her sex. My penis rose to the occasion, a libidinous and ravenous thought crossed my mind: take her. So soft and delicate.

  How could I think such a thing? All women in such a lawless world were probably in the same situation. I wouldn't be another male to be scared of. I would be a male to look up to, to be in awe of for his self-discipline. That's what it was, I reminded myself, self discipline. If Carol were ever in this situation I would hope she came across another strong man who would treat her properly. The way a woman should be treated. I reached out my hand.

  "Who are you?" she said, slinking towards me.

  She was short, and her hands, small, white, were empty. She wore a dress covered with dirt and grime. Her hair, auburn, seemed like it could be lighter with a wash. Her blue eyes struck out at me and tightened my throat. Each eye seemed to have a halo. She had to be a teenager. None of that mattered as my eyes naturally rested on her breasts that pushed her dress out, firm, round, and her hips that swooped in to a small waist.

  The voice, that new voice, growled. Told me to take her there and then. No, I fought back. I would start a new way, with new rules. "I'm Tom, your name?" I realized that I was speaking softly.

  "Jenny," she said. Her voice had an edge of flintiness, flirting with my groin. A sexual marker that she never had a chance to use properly, and yet it was enough for me.

  Calm down.

  "Pleased to meet you," I said and shook her hand, soft, limp, sensuous. I wondered if she had been here as a plaything for the two men. "What are you doing here? Are you friends with Big Lee and Johnny?"

  She seemed to light up at the sound of their names. "No family. You friends with them?"

  The spark in her eyes, the way she moved closer to hear something about them pushed sorrow into my mind. I shouldn't have done what I had done. Now what could I tell her? Carol always joked that she'd found the one man in the world incapable of lying.

  "Yes, I am. They'll be back in a few days." The lie felt so easy and natural that it surprised me. This made life so much easier.

  She smiled, beautiful white teeth, full lips, as she came closer. Trusting me so naturally... "In a few days?"

  "Yes, they just had to travel further out. They told me to take care of this area for them," I said and smiled back, the ease of which scared me. I would tell her in due time, for now it was best to treat her with kindness. I handed her a piece of cheese and crackers and she gobbled it down. "What's your relation to them?"

  "Johnny's my pa." She swallowed her food.

  "And Big Lee?"

  "He's my brother." She took more food.

  A ray of light hit her face and it was then that I saw that her eyes were much the same as Johnny's had been. Just kinder. My stomach churned. She would find out and then what?

  "They usually don't take kindly to strangers. Not these days at least." She looked at me, without the slightest hint of mistrust. "Can't trust anyone. We once let a man in here, but he tried to kill them in their sleep and steal me." She blushed at the word, as if she couldn't imagine what it was that made a man want to steal her.

  "Yes." I'd have to think of a story and stick with it. "I helped them find some water, good water. So we're friends now."

  She nodded her head. "So you're staying with us?"

  "For now, tomorrow I'll head out to finish some of my own work, then I'll be back."

  She smiled at my comment then hugged me.

  The sudden affection took me back, and I froze for a second before deciding that I shouldn't miss out on her touch and held her tight, pushed against her breasts and let my hand rest on the nadir of her hip and waist. My cock gently brushed up against her, and when she didn't react, I pushed my hips further towards her. It was dirty, but it felt pure. I'm sure she smiled at me.

  Tomorrow I would find out about Carol. I would clean myself.

  We spent the rest of the night talking about our lives. She nestled herself so close to me that I was certain I would explode. She talked about her high school and friends who were no more, and I talked about my job, Portland, and Carol.

  I made sure we slept on different sides of the shack—I didn't trust myself. I reminded myself that this was supposed to be the start of a better world, not a worse one.

  The next day I found some topographical maps, and marked out my journey. I packed my food, extra ammunition, hid a couple handguns in my clothes, found a compass and headed out.

  I hugged Jenny; she seemed sad to see me go. I locked her inside. I told myself it was so that no one could harm her. But in reality I wanted her waiting when I got back. I had found something innocent in this world, and I wanted to hold on to it. I walked over the ridge and to Carol.

  My walk to Portland started out well. All I saw were charred foundations, and pieces of roads that were nothing but rubble, or washed away. The forests that made Oregon so green were gone. It was depressing. I'd always been a person who fought the overdevelopment that happened in my state, in the country. I wanted things left untouched by humans. But this...

  Civilization started with a lucky draw of certain seeds in the right conditions, blossomed, and was now gone. The thought of billion
s of humans seemed like a distant dream. The world. The apocalypse. Carol. What was I expecting to find? The more I saw, the more a gnawing feeling inside me said that there was no way she could've survived this. And if she had she wouldn't be the same, or I would never find her. She would be somewhere in the hills scavenging off the land.

  The first night I slept between some metal sheets that I found under a layer of mud. My skin didn't feel warm. Was radiation was still an issue? Then I wondered if that even mattered. My life would be shortened by something. I woke up and kept marching. Around afternoon I got to where Portland should have been. I'd seen pictures of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and was expecting charred ruins, but there wasn't even that. There were several craters. The green hills all barren. I tried to think of where our suburb was, and couldn't quite remember. When I finally triangulated my neighborhood's location, with the side of the hill and angle. I found more of the same: some foundations remained and everything caked with mud. As if the city had never existed.

  I should have been ready for it, but I wasn't. Carol's image flooded back to the back of my eyeballs and I felt weak at the knees. I fell down. The sky seemed an ominous gray. Lightening cracked slowly across the clouds like a Martian snail.

  Carol and I'd met trail running a race only a few miles from Portland. It'd been a typical Oregon summer day. When I saw her, she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen—all smiles—a body flagrantly showing skin in the summer warmth. Normally, I would have just looked, but she smiled and I felt warm inside. I talked to her and asked her out for dinner that night. The rest was history.

  Now there was nothing. I looked around.

  Absolutely nothing.

  They'd really done it. They'd really decided that nuking cities, was the best choice. I shook my head. Had the people who pressed the buttons managed to stay safe? If so where? I was angry and grasping at straws. In a world like this no one would have come out on top. I wondered if God would have allowed his entire creation to be destroyed. Like it didn't matter. I always believed in the Bible, found hope in it. Now, however, I couldn't see His hand in the world; was this His rapture? Not the way I saw it. Was there even any law now? Or was it just me and my thoughts? The wind blew, as if to say yes.

 

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