First Days After

by Jay Vielle

  “Pendejo,” said the voice. It was clearly a woman’s, but she was dressed in a very masculine manner with a baseball cap pulled down and her long hair tucked into the back.

  “No se mueva, por favor,” said Jake, nocking another arrow quickly. His accent was very gringo.

  “Who the fuck are you? Robin Hood?” the woman asked. I smiled at that.

  “More like Zorro. Who are you?” asked Jake.

  “Estela Fuentes,” said the woman. “I am an assistant manager here. Or at least I was. And you’re trespassing.”

  When she stood up, I realized that despite being dressed like a man with multiple layers and a ball cap, she was beautiful. She appeared to be in her early twenties, clearly Hispanic, with a defiant look in her eyes. Jake smiled.

  “Mucho gusto, Ms. Fuentes,” Jake nodded in a mocking bow. “And these are normal shopping hours, so we’re not really trespassing, right? Are we the first ones to come here?”

  “No. Just the first ones to make it in.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “There were some gangbangers who came by earlier. They were beating on the doors, trying to get in. I warned them to go away. They didn’t. So I shot out the door. They scattered and haven’t come back. That was a few hours ago.” That explained the broken glass outside rather than in.

  “Why didn’t you shoot at us?” asked Jake.

  “You were quieter. I didn’t hear you come in at first. Once I realized I had company, I remembered I left the gun over there,” she pointed towards the back of the store. “I was trying to sneak back over to get it when you shot at me with that fucking arrow.”

  “Wasn’t trying to hit you. Just get your attention. Sorry to frighten you. Probably scared enough being here all alone,” said Jake.

  “What makes you think I’m alone,” said Estela.

  “Because we got in. If there were someone else, there would have been a lookout. But you wouldn’t have gotten caught with your guard down, not this far from your weapon.” Estela looked angry at that and cut her eyes across the room to the gun section, scowling.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “We aren’t going to hurt you. We work at the school down the street. Hunter’s Run. We just wanted to see what was happening out there,” I said. Jake turned at me admonishingly.

  “No need to tell everything about us, Eddie,” Jake said.

  “So, you are Robin Hood,” said Estela. “You’re here to rob the place.”

  “Well,” Jake said. “Yeah, we are.”

  CHAPTER 6

  “Wait, we are?” I asked.

  “Essentially, yes,” said Jake. “If you want to be honest about it. When we first thought we had found this place empty, weren’t we planning on taking anything handy?” I raised my eyebrows and looked towards Lou. He shrugged.

  “Actually, that was your idea,” I reminded him.

  “And you were going to go along with it,” he reminded me back. “Does it make a difference that someone’s here?”

  “Well, yeah. Kinda,” I answered. Lou shrugged again. He couldn’t take his eyes off Estela.

  “I guess it does,” said Jake. “But Señora—whom are you defending?”

  “It’s Señorita. And what do you mean?” said Estela.

  “I’m guessing that nobody here works on commission, and that you don’t have a personal stake in the stock here, yes?” said Jake.

  “No. Nobody does.”

  “And all of your workers, they just…left?”

  “Sí. They all left. So?”

  “So, if there is nothing but mass hysteria out there, with gangbangers trying to take whatever they want, then you have a choice, right?” asked Jake. I wondered where he was going with this.

  “What choice?” she asked.

  “You can lose your stock to a bunch of gangbangers whom you shot at earlier, or you can donate your stock to some dedicated public servants and needy children for their survival.” Jake grinned.

  I grinned wide and nodded. “Good point.”

  “Thanks,” said Jake, offering me a nod.

  “That’s mierda,” said Estela. “It’s theft, either way.”

  “Not if you donate it,” said Jake.

  “I don’t care if you’re Robin Hood or William Tell, you’re not going to intimidate me into giving you free stuff,” she yelled.

  “Okay then,” said Jake. “We’ll buy it.”

  “What?” said Lou, gawking at Jake. Jake waved the hold on gesture at Lou.

  “Do you have change?” he asked.

  Estela stared at him perturbedly.

  “Afraid I only have big bills,” he said. “So, are your computers working? I presume ringing me up, and getting change from the drawer for big bills is no problem, then?” She looked angry again.

  “Eddie, do you have your credit card with you,” Jake asked.

  “Alright, shut up. Just take it. Take whatever you want,” said Estela. “It’s not like I could ring you up, for God’s sake. It’s not like anybody is here to tell me what to do either.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked again. Estela exhaled and slumped a bit in the shoulders.

  “Yes, dammit. Just take it all,” she yelled. “You made your point, pendejo.”

  “No soy pendejo, señora, soy ladrón,” Jake said. I smiled. Lou looked confused. I whispered to him.

  “He said he’s not an asshole, he’s a thief,” I said. Lou smiled and nodded.

  “Ustedes hablan español,” she said. “And, I told you already, it’s Señorita. And pendejo isn’t really ‘asshole,’ you know,” she said to me.

  “Loose translation,” I answered. “My parents are Peruvian. And as for the need to translate,” I jerked my thumb towards Lou, “Dumb Gringo.” Estela smiled.

  “Hey,” Lou said. “I’m right here.”

  “Accurate on both accounts,” said Jake.

  “Señorita,” said Jake. “We did come to see if there was anything we could use, but we also came to see how bad things are around here. We’ve been stuck in the school for a couple of days, with little or no internet, cell phone reception, or news of what’s gone on since the first bombings. We’ve been attacked by a pack of hoodlums and had to fight them off. Things seem pretty rough. We can help you if those guys come back, maybe in exchange for some supplies?”

  Estela looked us up and down a few times. She frowned a moment, then exhaled.

  “I suppose I can’t hold onto all of this by myself for very long,” she said. “Now that I’ve blown the doors open.”

  “Thank you. Eddie, you and Lou snag some canned food. Whatever you can grab. Get bread and rolls too. Throw them all into a couple of carts. Señorita?”

  “Call me Estela, Señor.”

  “Estela then. I’m Jake. Estela, can you take me back to where you sell your weapons?”

  “Yes. But leave me something, would you?” she said.

  “I had assumed that you might want to join us,” said Jake.

  “Wait, you’re inviting me?” she asked.

  “It’s tough out there. There are thirty-six of us. I guess a few more now. We’re holed up in the school, at least for the time being. Supplies are decent there for now. We’d love to have you.”

  “Gracias,” she said, walking Jake back to the hunting section. “It’s just, I don’t know what I should do. I don’t really know you.”

  Jake grabbed another cart and begin filling it with everything the store had. Shotguns, rifles, pistols, ammunition, bows, crossbows, knives, whatever could be used as a weapon. He also grabbed rope, duct tape, lighters, and batteries. Estela had to grab another cart to fit it all. Then Jake directed her to the camping section. He put several folding tents, cots, sleeping bags, and memory foam bedrolls in the cart as well.

  “You guys planning on going camping or something?” she asked.

  “Bad night’s sleep for everybody. Figured the more we could do to help folks sleep the better. Besides, I don’t know how l
ong we’re going to be there. We may have to move out soon.”

  “Move out?” Estela said. “Why?”

  “Same reason as you. People have found us. They may want things that we have. Like that school building for starters. It’s almost like a fortress. But if we can’t defend it, keep it for ourselves, then we may be better off moving on.”

  “Moving on to where?” she asked. Jake shrugged at the question. “Don’t you know what it’s like out there?” Estela said.

  “Point of fact, Señorita, I don’t. This is as far as we’ve gotten in three days. The internet isn’t reliable. No radio is reliable at the moment. No television. We’re blind and deaf, and only know as much as we can see. And I’ve seen about all I care to today. Do you have the keys to the gun cabinets?”

  “Yes,” said Estela warily. Jake raised his eyebrows, then jerked his head towards the cabinets. Estela nodded and began opening them.

  “Look, Señorita,” Jake said.

  “Estela. I’m Estela.”

  “Estela, if you’re coming with us, we might as well take everything we can.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said, as her eyes began to tear up. “It’s just that, I told myself, this world is still okay as long as I have this place. I know you’re right, but it’s like I’m admitting defeat if I do this.”

  Jake looked at her a moment, then gave a reassuring smile and put his hand on her shoulder. “This is not a defeat. You are not giving up. You are trying to hold an untenable position in a world that has changed dramatically in the past twenty-four hours. You’ve got to find someone to trust. You can trust me. You can trust us. We’re not bad people.”

  Estela wiped her eyes, nodded and smiled, then opened the cabinets, and helped Jake start dumping as many guns and ammunition as would fit into the shopping cart. She noticed how heavy they were when she pushed the cart along the aisle. She noticed Jake’s limp as he moved down the aisle collecting weapons, then turned to see where Mark and I were putting canned and packaged food into our carts. I waved and smiled, unable to imagine what the new member of our group must be thinking.

  Then the tires squealed outside, and we heard four doors slam.

  All of us turned immediately and looked at each other. Jake waved us down and we all dropped below apparel racks and tried to get a view of the entrance. Two shots rang out and the already splintered glass in the door frame exploded. Then the first of four men walked through the broken door and waved the gun in several directions.

  “Knock, knock, bitch! We comin’ in,” said the first man, who was wearing a flat-brimmed Phillies cap and a matching vintage Mike Schmidt jersey. Behind him were two identical twins, who appeared to be bi-racial. One was holding a butcher knife. Bringing up the rear was a hulking black man with an eye patch and a bat. It was the same guy that Jake tangled with earlier.

  “We know you in here,” said the Philly. “Been watching since you shot at us last time. Brought my own gun back with me. Guess we’ll see how tough you are now.”

  The big guy with the eye patch started breaking things with his bat. Anything that was near—a small fridge that held sodas, a hat rack, a shopping basket. He smashed them all with frightening power. Up close I could see how enormous he was. Had to be 6’3” at least, and probably pushing 300 pounds. I wondered how Jake had beaten him, then remembered that Jake had softened him up with his bow and arrow first and then taken his eye out—an almost lucky move when the man had tackled him to the ground. Jake had resourcefully used the arrow in the big man’s eye, and it had turned the tide. That seemed enough to stop him then, but here he was, back creating mayhem. And he seemed much angrier. They were getting closer to us.

  Lou Orville looked at me from the floor with fear in his eyes. “They have a gun. All we have are bows. What do we do?” he whispered. I didn’t know. I shrugged, shook my head, and felt a shiver up my spine when I realized we were out manned and out gunned. Then I felt the hands on my back.

  “Look what we got here,” yelled one of the twins. He grabbed my shirt and yanked me hard to my feet, and I dropped my bow. “Found me a Robin Hood, Bucky. Didn’t you say it was a man with an arrow took out your eye?” The twin backhanded me hard across the face. The blood rushed to it and it felt like an explosion on my cheek.

  “You blind my boy, bitch?” the twin shouted at me. The enormous one came walking over.

  “Nah, dog. That ain’t him. I ain’t seen this one before. Ain’t much to him,” he said.

  Just then Lou moved slightly from his hiding place a few feet away and banged into a rack that made a lot more noise than it looked like it should have. The man with the gun shot twice in Lou’s direction, and a whine came from him that seemed completely involuntary.

  “Get the fuck up,” yelled the man with the gun. Lou rose immediately, hands in the air.

  “Don’t shoot,” he yelled. “Don’t shoot.” His eyes were closed. He was clearly afraid. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the slightest movement across the room near the weapons area. There was no way that Jake had had time to open and load any of the guns in the back part of the store. Most were in boxes or wrapped in plastic, and the ammo had to be the same, I thought. The man with the gun walked over to us.

  “Alright, where’s the bitch?” he asked.

  “What are you talking about?” I said.

  “The bitch who works here. She shot at us. Fucked up my car. I came back to settle up.”

  “We’re the only ones here,” I answered back.

  “Don’t you fucking lie to me, boy,” said the gunman. He walked up next to me and Lou, who was now being held by the other twin. He put his nose up to mine, stared me in the eye, and said it quieter and more dramatically, “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying,” I said, and Lou’s face looked terrified. The gunman turned to Lou, then back to me, raised his arm, pointed the gun toward the roof, and then hollered in a very loud voice.

  “I will fucking shoot you where you stand, assholes,” he yelled, and fired a shot into the ceiling and Lou flinched as he did.

  “She’s here, she’s here,” said Lou. “Don’t kill us. She’s here in the back somewhere.”

  The gunman looked at me with a scowl, then nodded at the twin holding me and he backhanded me again. This time he drew blood, which trickled out of my nostril and onto my lips.”

  “That’s what heroes get, motherfucker,” said the twin. The gunman smiled. Then he pressed the gun to Lou’s head and said, “Tell me where she is.”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see. Somewhere in the back. She’s nothing to me. Don’t shoot, please,” said Lou. The gun rotated slightly away, and then I heard a loud rustling in the back. Jake rose visibly, bow in hand, and fired an arrow into one of the check-out stands near us, missing the four attackers by a good five feet, but making a loud noise. The arrow knocked gum, candy and a magazine onto the floor. The gunman immediately returned fire at Jake, but Jake had already dropped to the ground and the bullet flew past harmlessly. Jake rose a second time and shot again. This time the arrow was closer, but still far from hitting the gunman, who shot once more at Jake. The shot hit a shelf right near Jake’s head as he dove to the floor. I winced at how close the shot was.

  “Alright. Let’s try this another way. Come on out, Robin Hood and bring the bitch with you, or I’ll do your friends in front of you.” He then turned the gun towards me and Lou. Lou squinted, and a squeaking noise came out of him that sounded almost feral. I swallowed hard. A long silent moment came, and I wondered if I was a dead man. Then I saw movement from the back. Jake rose to his feet, nodded at Estela, and she rose as well.

  “Put the bow down, hands in the air, or these two die.”

  It seemed like an eternity. Nothing but silence hung in the air. I wondered what Jake would do-- wondered if I was about to die in a few moments. Lou was nearly in tears. He was done—couldn’t speak, drool was coming out of his mouth, and he was immobile, shaking. Then I saw Jake stand up. He
walked methodically towards the rest of us with a terrified Estela next to him, hands raised.

  “That your boy?” the gunman asked the large man with the bat and the eye patch.

  “That’s him alright,” he said. “I’m gonna rip out BOTH of his fucking eyes.”

  As Jake got closer he squinted a bit, and I thought I saw him start to smile ever so slightly.

  “Hello again,” he said. “Nice patch. You look more like a pirate now,” said Jake. Lou’s face twisted at him in shock. I admit thinking he was being a little cocky at a bad time.

  “I’m gonna end you, motherfucker. You got lucky last time. But I’m gonna show you how to hit a home run on your fucking skull,” he said.

  “And what makes you think I’m gonna let you do that?” said Jake.

  “This is why, bitch,” said the gunman, pointing his pistol at Jake now, who was only a few feet away and still approaching.

  “I don’t think so, dude,” said Jake. “You’re out of bullets.”

  The gunman’s eyes widened, then he pointed the pistol at Jake, pulled the trigger, and only heard a clicking sound. Just then Jake sprinted right at him and clotheslined him. He hit the floor hard, and his head bounced off the concrete. One down. The twin holding me clicked a switchblade and turned towards Jake, who was moving backwards to create a single file of attackers so that he could take them on one at a time. The first twin lunged at him. Jake parried the lunge, grabbed the wrist of the knife hand, and spun backwards in a circle, flinging the twin to the ground and dislodging the knife. The twin grabbed his wrist and winced, and Jake kicked him in the groin and picked up his knife. He doubled over and grabbed his crotch and instantaneously vomited. The second twin was running towards him now, but Jake now had his own knife, and feinted left, then moved right and jabbed him in the neck, leaving the knife there. The second twin clutched his neck and dropped to his knees. Then Jake threw a hard left hook to his face and the second twin dropped. The gunman was still lying dazed, his eyes lolling back as he moaned.