by M. D. Massey
“Anyone here?” Angus calls out as he approaches the car.
Axl walks on his brother’s right, keeping his gun up. His eyes dart around. My heart pounds and I tighten my grip on my own gun.
Angus goes to the driver’s side and looks in the window while Axl goes to the passenger side. A thick layer of dust coats the car. It hasn’t been driven in a couple of days at least. Angus tries the front door while I look through the back window. No one is inside, but there are boxes. Even a case of bottled water.
“It’s locked on this side,” Axl says.
“Same here.” Angus frowns. “Let’s check out the tent. Maybe we can find the keys.”
I’ve only taken two steps toward the tent when it hits me. A heavy, putrid smell that makes me gag and causes my stomach to lurch. I stop and turn my head, coughing and breathing in slowly through my mouth as bile rises in my throat.
Axl stops next to me. “You okay?”
I nod and swallow. “Yeah. I’m alright.”
Angus rolls his upper lip in disgust. “Come on.”
The tent door is open. It blows back and forth, flapping in the breeze. I cover my nose when we get closer and try to fight the nausea. The last thing I need is to get on Angus’s bad side again. Not after he just gave my gun back.
We’re two feet from the tent when something inside moves. All three of us stop dead in our tracks. My heart jumps to my throat, and I drop my hand from my nose, wrapping it firmly around my gun.
Angus grabs the gun out of his waistband and looks over at his brother. “You hear that?” he whispers.
Axl nods. None of us move. A scratching sound comes from inside, and it may be my imagination, but I swear something brushes up against the side of the tent.
“Anybody in there?” Angus calls out, a little louder than necessary.
No response. Then more movement.
Axl takes one hand off his gun. He points to his brother, then over toward the tent. Angus nods, and they both look back at me. I nod and raise my gun. Angus tucks his back in his waistband. He takes a step forward. Axl and I follow, both of us hold our guns tightly in our hands. Aiming right at the door to the tent.
More movement. Something is definitely in there.
My heart pounds when Angus stops. He glances back at Axl, then reaches forward. The door flaps. Back and forth. Something inside scratches against the ground and brushes against the side of the tent. This time I’m sure it’s not my imagination.
I tense and move my finger to the trigger, automatically checking to make sure the safety is off. My blood pounds in my ears. Angus reaches for the door. He doesn’t look back at us, but he holds his right hand up, extending three fingers. Slowly he lowers one, then another. When he gets down to one I suck in a deep breath. He jerks the door back. Something flies from the tent.
“Damn!” I yell, taking my finger off the trigger as I jump back. The giant bird swoops by my head, screeching at me as it soars into the sky, joining his friends.
“Thought you were gonna shoot,” Axl says with a grin.
It’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen out of him. He has a dimple in his right cheek.
I laugh. My heart is still pounding as I put the safety back on. “I almost peed my pants.”
Axl laughs and looks back at the tent. Angus stands there with the door pulled aside, peering in. I catch a glimpse of what used to be two people and squeeze my eyes shut, gagging. They are very dead. The birds and other animals have gotten to them.
“Think it was the virus?” Axl asks.
The canvas rustles as the brothers step inside, but I turn my back to the tent. The images of those poor people will be burned into my brain for the rest of my life. I couldn’t even tell if they were men or women. There was just nothing left…
A sleeping bag unzips. Something rustles around inside, like Angus and Axl are digging through their belongings.
“Don’t see any other injuries. Just what the animals did,” Angus replies.
I can’t listen to them, so I tuck my gun into my pants and walk over to what used to be the fire. They’re still inside when I carry the camp chairs back to the car.
“What was in the tent?” Trey asks.
“Two people. Or what was left of them, anyway. Looks like the virus killed them. Animals took care of the rest.”
“What now?” Joshua asks.
I shake my head and glance toward the tent just as the brothers step out. “I think they were looking for keys to the car. There could be some useful things.”
“You’re just going to steal their stuff?” Parvarti looks so young and innocent.
“We’re not stealing it. We’re scavenging.” I sigh. I hate to be harsh, but she needs a dose of reality. “Look, Angus is an ass, but he’s right. Things have changed. Maybe it’s temporary. Maybe things will get better. But if not…” I shake my head and turn away. Angus and Axl step out of the tent and head toward the Honda. “Just think about it,” I say over my shoulder.
I stop in front the Honda just as Angus unlocks the front door.
“Open the trunk,” I call.
He nods and the trunk pops open.
“Jackpot.”
There are two boxes full of canned food and two suitcases. These people were prepared. Grunting, I lug the boxes out of the trunk and drop them on the ground, then turn back to the suitcases. They aren’t small. It takes a minute to wrestle the first one out. It’s wedged in pretty good, and I have to pull on it with all my strength. It finally jerks free, and I stumble back a few steps, dropping it to the ground.
“You need help back there?” Axl calls out.
“I’m good.” I lean down to unzip the suitcase.
It’s full of clothes. Women’s clothes. They aren’t pretty, but that doesn’t matter in a post-apocalyptic world. Hopefully, I’ll never need to wear them. For now, I’m going to hang onto them. I dig a little more and find a small bag of toiletries—always handy—and a couple pairs of shoes. Something I do need.
I pull out a blue-and-white Nike and look inside. An eight. I’m a seven and a half, but a little big is better than nothing. I sit on my butt and pull off my wedge heels, then shove them in the bag. I’m not ready to completely give up on the idea of pretty things, so I’m keeping them. I find some white socks and pull those and the Nikes on. My feet hurt less already.
Once that’s done, I zip the suitcase back up and inspect the second one. I open it before I drag it out. Men’s clothes, just like I thought it’d be. I throw it on the ground next to the other one. Shoved behind the suitcases are a couple of blankets. They’re thick and flannel, exactly what we need. I toss them on top of the boxes, and the trunk is empty.
I head over to the passenger side, where Axl digs through the car. A case of water and another box of food sits on the ground. This one is full of snack items: chips, bags of cookies, granola bars. Things like that.
“Find anything good?” Axl asks me.
He has a purse in his lap. I pick up the wallet and my hands shake. Do I want to know who this woman was?
“Suitcases with clothes, couple boxes of canned goods and some blankets.” I don’t look at him. I stare at the wallet in my hands.
“No money in there,” he says. He looks up from the purse and his eyes narrow on me.
“I was just curious who she was.”
He nods like he understands. Probably does. No way Angus would.
I flip the wallet open. Her picture stares at me from her license. Amy Winston, born January 26, 1976. Lived in Peoria, AZ. Must have been where they were headed. Where were they coming from?
“You two ‘bout finished?” Angus calls.
I toss the wallet on top of the purse and head to the back of the car. Angus stands there with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a toolbox in his hand.
“What’d you get?” he asks.
“Clothes, mostly. Figured we’d take them since we have plenty of room. Just in case we end up needing them.”
He frowns. “Try to cut it down to one suitcase. We’re gonna need some more survival gear.”
He’s right. God, I hate that he’s right.
My gun digs into my hip when I kneel down and unzip both suitcases. But I get busy sorting the clothes.
Angus walks away, and Axl comes up behind me. I glance over my shoulder just in time to catch him checking out my ass as he picks up the box of food. My cheeks burn. I look away before he realizes I saw him.
It doesn’t take long to go through the suitcases. I keep anything that looks warm. It’s fall, and if things don’t get sorted out before winter, we’re going to need them. I get to my feet just as Axl comes back to get the second box. I end up leaving my wedge shoes, which hurts less than I expected it to.
“Got everything?”
I nod and walk toward the car. “Do you think we’re overreacting?”
His eyebrows pull together. “Hard to say. All the lyin’ is what bothers me. If things ain’t that bad, why are they hidin’ so much from us?”
I stop and turn to face him. “Where’d you guys steal the car?”
He inhales sharply. “Who says we did?”
“I figured it out. You just confirmed it this morning when the cops stopped us. I don’t care. I’m just curious.” Guilt tugs at me, but I can’t give in to it. Things are different now.
Axl sighs. “Swiped it from my boss. The guy was a prick.”
“What about all the gear? You steal that from him too?”
“Damn,” Axl mutters. “We didn’t hurt no one, understand? We held up a few convenience stores, outside St. Louis. They’re rakin’ in the dough right now. Everybody buyin’ gas. We took the money and bought as much survival gear as we could.”
There was something on the news about that. When I was at that diner.
“Is it gone?” It would be nice to have enough money for gas and food, as well as some more gear. Who knows if we’ll come across another abandoned car anytime soon.
He narrows his eyes. “Why?”
“I’m not going to steal it from you. I just want to know what we have to work with.”
He studies me for a second and then nods. “We still got some. Enough to get us more supplies and gas.”
I start walking again. “Good.”
8
We stop in Texola for the night. It’s right before you cross from Oklahoma into Texas, hence the clever name. We pass a few houses—some boarded up, some not—and a few doublewides that may have been recently inhabited. But the town mostly consists of empty, crumbling buildings from the 1950s or earlier. There are no lights on in the buildings we pass, no streetlights in the town, no cars, and no people. It’s terrifying. For a moment I imagine this is what the future has in store for us. Driving through abandoned city after abandoned city for the rest of our lives.
If we’re immune.
The sun is low on the horizon and the sky is a bright shade of orange. We set up camp outside what used to be a bar. There’s a colorful sign on top—hand-painted decades ago—with an odd-looking cowboy sitting on top of a horse. The words Water Hole #2 are painted next to him. It’s boarded up, just like most of the other buildings we passed.
“You guys can handle this?” Angus walks up to us with a shotgun in each hand.
Trey steps away from the gun. “What are you doing?”
“Huntin’,” Axl snaps as he takes the shotgun his brother holds out to him. “You wanna eat, right?”
“We have canned goods,” Joshua says.
“Don’t waste that. Save it for later, in case we have a night when we can’t shoot somethin’ to eat.” Angus spits on the ground at Joshua’s feet.
Joshua and Trey look at each other, but neither one looks convinced. I’m not surprised. I bet neither one of them has ever missed a meal. They’ve probably never eaten something that didn’t come from a grocery store or a restaurant. I have. Plenty of times.
“You’re going to kill an animal?” Parvarti asks meekly.
Angus’s face is red. He’s on the verge of losing it, so I step in. “They’re right. We have to be smart about this. Take precautions.”
Joshua stares at me for a second. Then he nods. “Yeah. That’s what we have to do.” He turns back to Axl and Angus. “Go hunt, we’ll set up camp.”
Axl raises an eyebrow and looks Joshua up and down. “Can you start a fire? Set up a tent?”
“I can,” I say.
Angus nods approvingly. “That’s right. Trailer trash. Helluva life, but it makes ya tough.” He turns and starts walking. “We’ll be back. Shouldn’t take long.”
Axl follows his brother, and for a second, I don’t move. My insides boil. No one knew I was trailer trash except the brothers, and if it had been up to me it would have stayed that way. I’ve worked hard to distinguish myself from people like them.
Get over it, I tell myself. You’re just as good as they are.
Right. The doctor, the two students from Cornell. I’m a stripper who was raised in a trailer park. I’m a walking cliché.
“Let’s get this fire going,” Joshua says, breaking through my thoughts.
“Yeah.” I walk over and help arrange the wood, breaking some of the sticks Parvarti collected into smaller ones for kindling.
“You’re not trailer trash,” Joshua says.
I keep my eyes down, focusing on getting the wood to light. “Yes I am. I’m just not redneck like they are.”
The fire catches and I stay where I am for a moment to make sure it doesn’t go out. It doesn’t. Trey is struggling with the tent. These three are going to be in trouble if this really is the end of the civilization.
“Why don’t you get the camp chairs out of the car?” I say to Trey. “I can do the tent. I helped with it last night.” It’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know.
He smiles gratefully, then jogs off to the car. Parvarti follows him. She doesn’t say much. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s shy or if it has to do with the fact that she just found out her parents are dead. Only time will tell.
When the tent is up, both Trey and Joshua wander off to call their families. Parvarti sits next to me and stares into the fire silently. She wears Trey’s sweatshirt, and it makes her look even more like a child.
“So you and Trey seem to have gotten close,” I say. I want to make conversation, but I’m afraid to ask anything about her life. She seems pretty shaken, and the last thing I want to do is remind her that her parents are dead.
“He’s been great to have around. I was worried about traveling with him. Going across the country with some guy I didn’t know was scary, but I had no other options. If I didn’t have him…” A tear slides down her cheek, and she stares at her hands.
I look out into the darkness, toward the sound of Trey’s voice. “He seems to like you.”
To my surprise, she smiles. “My mother would die—” Her hand goes to her mouth and she lets out a little sob.
I don’t know what it’s like having a family you actually love, but it must be horrible to lose something like that. I want to tell her to remember the good times, to be thankful she got to experience it. Not all of us do. But something like that wouldn’t make sense to her. Not now, maybe not ever.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” I whisper.
She wipes the tears from her face. “Me too. I just hope it wasn’t too bad.”
“Are you still going home? Maybe you could go with Trey. His family seems to be healthy still.”
She looks up at me. Her eyes are huge in this light. “What about you? Is your family sick?”
“I don’t have any family. Not really.”
Her eyes grow bigger. “How did you get papers?”
I tense, and I look toward the fire. I should tell her, I know about her parents. “I do have a father, in California. Hell, maybe I have a mother too. Who knows? Either way, I’m not going to see them. I just used them as an excuse. I’m going to see my daughter. I gave her up for ad
option four years ago and I just…I just couldn’t let the world end without seeing her. That’s all.”
“Do her adoptive parents know you’re coming?”
“I guess. I put a letter in the mail the day before I left. I didn’t have a phone number for them, so I couldn’t call. No email. So, as long as the postal service is still running they’ll know. If not, then I guess I’ll be a surprise.”
Footsteps echo through the dark night. I turn. Axl and Angus are back.
“Where’s everybody?” Angus asks, flopping down in one of the camp chairs.
“Talking to their families,” I say.
Axl tosses something on the ground in front of the fire. “Came ‘cross this mother on our way back. We got a few squirrels too, but this guy’ll taste real good.”
It takes me a moment to figure out what it is, and when I do even I turn up my nose. “An opossum?”
“Gross,” Parvarti says.
“Sorry, your highness,” Angus says. “We’re fresh outta filet.”
“It’ll be fine.” I’m trying to reassure myself as much as Parvarti. Opossums remind me of giant rats. Not exactly appetizing.
She starts to calm down until Axl takes out his knife to skin the animal. At the first sight of blood she’s on her feet, heading off into the darkness. Probably in search of Trey.
I turn away, and my eyes land on Angus. He’s fooling with his gun. It’s the first time he hasn’t had a soda can in his hand since he picked me up. “You run out of dip, Angus?”
He glares across the fire. “What’s it to you?”
Axl chuckles. “Don’t get him started. He’s been bitchin’ ‘bout it all night.”
“Better to get yourself off the stuff now,” I say. “Where are you going to get dip when the world ends?”
“There’ll be lots of it. No one’s gonna raid the gas station lookin’ for dip. They’ve got more important things to look for. Things we’ve already got.”
He has a good point, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.