Out of LA

by Dennis Elder

  The previous morning, after they finished struggling with the power, everyone went upstairs to see what was going on. Sylvia was the first to look out the window and noticed the lights were off at the neighbors.

  While they were all eating cold cereal, Robert went outside to get the mail. He came back in after a few minutes and said to the group, “It’s weird out there this morning.”

  “Weird?” asked Teresa, as she put the milk back into the refrigerator.

  “No noise,” responded Robert. “And I mean no noise. No birds, no barking and the really strange thing is there aren’t any cars. Usually by now people are heading to work and school. But not today,” finished Robert as he pulled his chair back up to the kitchen table and started in on his un-finished cheerios.

  Even without power, things progressed normally at first. The kids finished the dishes and everyone got ready for school.

  “The bus will be by in about 20 minutes, Silvia said loudly as she looked at her watch. “Looks like I’m going to have to get a real electrician out her this time,” she thought to herself.

  The Nest’s resident CEO went to her office and started searching for the name of the electrician that had given her such a good discount the last time the power went down. It took her fifteen minutes to find the receipt. Sylvia always paid her bills on time, but she had an ancient filing system so confusing that no one could find anything but her. Finally, she picked up the home phone to make the call. But there was no sound on the line. The phone was dead.

  “Looks like the phone is out too,” she shouted half-heartedly to the kids as she hung up the phone. It wasn’t important if they heard her. But she shouted anyway. “Looks like I’ll have to borrow the neighbor’s phone,” she said to herself.

  The kids were nearly ready for school and were beginning to come up the stairs. They had learned the hard way not to miss the bus. Those that had missed the bus in the past had to walk to school – rain or shine.

  Silvia always went to the door every morning to wish them a goodbye. It was a ritual she had come to enjoy. She took another quick look at her wristwatch and noticed the bus would be here in 4 minutes.

  “Four minutes,” she shouted, this time loud enough that everyone certainly heard her. She jumped up and headed to the door just as the last the kids were coming up the stairs. Each of them had their back backs and offered their standard goodbyes as they exited the house.

  Silvia always stood on the doorstep and watched her kids until they were all safely on the bus. That was another of her important traditions. As she watched, she noticed her kids were the only ones at the bus stop. Usually there were five or more other kids there by now.

  The bus station was across the street from her corner home and she could see all four corners of street from her front porch.

  After a few more minutes she looked at her watch again. Obviously the bus was late. When she looked back up she noticed a man walking towards her kids. He was almost stumbling and wearing pajamas and no shoes. She couldn’t see his face. He was walking away from her point of view.

  “That’s kinda weird,” she thought to herself.

  The kids were also watching the man, suspiciously. Through hard experience each had learned that most people could not be trusted. When the man got close to Cheryl he reached out and tried to grab her. She instinctively put her hand up to protect herself, but the man was bigger and basic physics sent her flying back and to the ground. The man didn’t hesitate and continued to reach for Cheryl. Jacob was nearest Cheryl. He grabbed the man by the shoulder and spun him around.

  “Hey creep,” said Jacob. “Back off.”

  The man stood in front of Jacob for a second. He looked at him with a twist of his head. It was then Jacob noticed the guy had blood around the corners of his mouth and on the front of the pajamas. Before anybody could react, the guy grabbed Jacob by both his shoulders and bit down on his neck.

  “Ahhh,” screamed Jacob.

  Robert, the biggest and strongest in their family reacted instinctively and hit the man in the side of his head with his balled-up fist. The guy reeled back from Robert’s punch but then quickly turned to face Robert.

  “Hungry,” the man mumbled. Then he lunged forward. Robert dogged the man’s clumsy move and the guy stumbled face first into the brick wall. The impact was hard, and the man’s forehead began to bleed instantly. But he didn’t flinch. Instead he spun back around again and focused the next closest kid. It was Gracie this time. She screamed and backed away. Robert swung his backpack as hard as he could and hit the man squarely in the head. The man went down to the ground this time. But then he sprung back up again like it didn’t even faze him.

  “What is with this guy,” said Robert in frustration.

  By now the kids were all moving away from the man and back toward their house. Robert kept himself between them and the man. But the man came again, and Robert punched him in face this time, as hard as he could. The man fell back momentarily and then kept coming. He was growling now and baring his teeth, like a wild dog. Robert started slowly backing up now. He wasn’t so sure if he could stop the guy.

  Just then Silvia appeared. She was holding her 357 police special and had it leveled at the man’s center mass, just like they taught her in the Police Academy 15 plus years earlier.

  “Hold it right their asshole,” barked Silvia in her best command voice.

  But the man kept coming. He didn’t even seem to notice the big gun’s presence.

  “Drugs,” thought Sylvia to herself, as she cocked the gun.

  Still the man stumbled forward toward her.

  So, Sylvia started backing up too. The growling continued.

  “All of you, get in the house,” shouted Silvia over her shoulder, as she continued to walk backwards while keeping her hand-held cannon pointed at the man. “You too, Robert!”

  When she shouted at Robert she turned her head slightly in Robert’s direction. That was when the man lunged at Silvia. Instinctively she pulled the trigger.

  The big bullet torn through the man’s upper chest and left a fist sized exit wound in the back of the man’s torso and pajama top. He hesitated for a moment, but then he kept coming.

  “No way,” said Silvia under her breath. She’d hit him right in chest. A 357 round at this close distance would bring down a bear.

  “Last warning,” she barked at the man. But he kept advancing and growling. So, Silvia raised the magnum handgun and sighted on the man’s forehead. Then she fired.

  This time the bullet entered the man’s forehead and left a similar sized exit wound in the back of his poorly combed hair. Most of his brains followed the bullet, and he dropped like a rock to the middle of the street.

  She kept the muzzle of the gun trained on the guy for another 20 seconds before she finally crept forward and nudged him with the tip of her shoe. Blood began pooling around his head and finally ran off toward the street curb.

  “Dam,” said Silvia.

  She turned back to the kids. They were all frozen, standing together on the front porch. Jacob held his shoulder with his left hand and was grimacing in pain. None of them could believe what just happened. Two of the girls were crying. Silvia started walking toward them.

  “I told you to get inside now,” said Silvia. “Teresa, take Jacob inside and get his shoulder looked at.” But the kids still didn’t move. They were all starring at the man lying in the middle of the street.

  “Move!” shouted Silvia. This time the kids moved. “I’m going next door to Mr. McGruider’s to call the cops.”

  By the time Silvia was halfway to Mr. McGruider’s front door, the kids had gone inside the nest and shut the door. When she got to McGruider’s front door, Silvia started pounding on it.

  “Mr. McGruider,” shouted Silvia. “I need to use your phone. There’s been a shooting and we need to call the police!”

  No one answered. Silvia rang the doorbell several times but again, no one came. So, she went around to the ba
ck of the house. They had been friends for many years. She knew where he kept a spare key.

  As she inserted the key into the door lock and twisted the doorknob she looked through the door’s windowpane. On the floor lay Mr. McGruider. He wasn’t moving and blood had gathered in perfect red circle around his head. The blood was mostly dry.

  “What on earth,” said Silvia as she opened the door and knelt down by her neighbor.

  Chapter 28: Six Thousand

  Susan, Tyrone and Frank stood at the door of a bike specialty shop. It took them two hours to find it. They saw a couple of HBs but didn’t have any trouble. Susan had her head pressed to the glass and was looking inside. She knew instantly this was the right store. There were a hundred upscale bikes in there, lots of supplies on the back wall, even a good selection of clothing. She tried the door, but it was locked. So, she stood back a bit, next to Tyrone and Frank.

  “This will do nicely,” said Susan. “Just need to find a way inside. “

  Tyrone cocked his Bushmaster machine gun and said,” I can open the window with this,” as he leveled the gun at the doorway.

  “No,” objected Susan immediately. “Glass on the floor and bike tires do not mix well.”

  Tyrone understood and flipped his gun back to the safety position.

  “We need to find some other way in,” said Susan.

  Susan leaned on the glass and started looked over the inside of the store again. Tyrone went looking for something to pry open the lock on the front door. After a minute or so Susan noticed Tyrone trying to pull a street sign out of the ground.

  “What are you doing?” asked Susan.

  Tyrone was bending the sign back and forth at its base. The metal was budging a little.

  “We need something to pry open the door,” responded Tyrone through gritted teeth. “Something heavy,”

  “You’re never going to get that to come out of the ground,” said Susan.

  “Not if you don’t get your skinny white butt over here and help me some,” said Tyrone.

  Susan smiled for a moment. Then she dropped her pack and gun and moved forward to help Tyrone. She didn’t add much to the effort, but the two of them began swinging their weight back and forth against the strength of the bending pole.

  After a minute went by and with very little results, Tyrone finally said, “I told you there was no chance of getting this thing out of the ground!”

  Susan instantly quite helping Tyrone, stepped back and said, “What? I was the one who told you…”

  But Susan didn’t finish her objection. The sound of jangling keys and the squeak of a door opening drew her attention back toward the bike shop door. Tyrone turned in the same direction. Then a smiling Frank stepped through the shop door, lifted a set of keys in his hand and said, “You know they say that back door friends are the best.”

  “How did you get in so easy?” ask Susan, as she picked up her pack and gun and entered the doorway. Tyron was right behind her.

  “Yea, how’d you get in man?” asked Tyrone, as he picked up his gear and entered the door.

  “Trade secret, brother,” said Frank as he quickly scanned the street for trouble before shutting the door behind him and locking it tight.

  Susan had already laid her gun and pack to the side. She was standing next to a long double row of high-end road bikes. They were beautiful, parked perfectly together like so many brand new Mercedes convertibles. Frank stood next to the far row and looked over the inventory. Tyrone walked up next to her and fingered a price tag attached to first bike in the closer row.

  “What!” objected Tyrone. “Six thousand dollars for a bike!”

  Susan didn’t react but said, “That nothing. I’ve seen racing wheels that are two thousand a piece.”

  “Long way from my first Huffy,” said Tyrone.

  “Got that right,” said Frank.

  “OK, here’s what we do,” said Susan. “We need to find ten good bikes for the group. I’ll pick them based on each person’s height and weight. We should pick bikes made by the same manufacturer – just in case we need to share parts. You guys need to gather supplies. We’ll need tubes, spare tires, toe clamps, repair kits, luggage racks, luggage bags, two-wheeled trailers, a couple tool kits, air pumps, and seat cushions.”

  “Seat cushions?” questioned Frank.

  “You’ll be wishing you had one after you pedal one of these your first hundred miles or so,” replied Susan. “A boil on the butt and a hard bike seat make poor company.”

  Susan looked around the store and pointed to the widest space on the floor.

  “Let’s clear a space here for the bikes. We’ll use those large gym bags to pack gear for each bike.”

  Frank and Tyrone quickly cleared the space needed, but afterward they just stood there, feeling a little overwhelmed. There seemed a lot to do and they didn’t have a clue where to begin. Susan sensed their frustration and turned to the men.

  “OK, once I find a good bike you guys collect spare tires and tubes for each bike.

  Each tube and tire needs a specific size. You must match the sizes exactly, it’s very important. Get the sizes off the sides of the tires on the bikes I choose. Figure two spare tires and 10 tubes per bike.”

  “That’s a lot of spares,” said Frank.

  “It’s a lot of miles,” replied Susan.

  “We might need um,” said Tyrone. “If the freeway between here and Salt Lake are as covered with the same amount of glass and stuff we’ve seen on the local streets, we’ll definitely need um.”

  Susan turned to Tyrone.

  “How tall are you Tyrone?” asked Susan.

  “Six foot five inches,” he said. “Why?”

  “Because,” responded Susan. “The taller the rider the bigger the bike. I’d say you’d need something about 58 centimeters high.”

  By then Susan had found a good road bike large enough for Tyrone. She wheeled it back and pushed it into Tyrone’s open hands.

  “Take a good look,” said Susan. “Next to your rifle, this baby is going to be your best friend for a while.”

  Tyrone looked over the large bike and wheeled it toward the cleared space.

  “Look for heavy duty kick stand kits too,” continued Susan. “We’ll need to attach one to each bike. You’ll find any tools we’ll need in the repair shop back there.”

  The men bent down and tried to read the sizes printed on Tyrone’s bike tires. They both squinted.

  “Can you read this stuff?” asked Tyrone.

  “Which number?” replied Frank.

  Susan turned back to the row of bikes and said to herself, “Now let’s find something for a lady.”

  Chapter 29: Frozen Food section

  It had been three days since the radiation burst hit the earth. Mary Smith and her two nursing companions had been living off unspoiled fruit, a few canned goods and other assorted vending machine food from the hospital cafeteria. But now the food was running out and so Mary and Leny decided to visit a local grocery store. Pam stayed behind to watch the kids.

  They left for the grocery store at 9 am in the morning. It was a twenty-minute walk, so they were a little tired by the time they arrived at the front door of Mr. Wiggley’s World of Food.

  Leny put her hand on the entry door and pushed it in.

  “Looks like they’re open for business,” suggested Leny.

  Both women entered the building. Immediately they noticed a nasty odor.

  “Woa,” said Mary as she put her hand to her face. Lenny put her hand to her face too. The smell was strong but wasn’t bad enough to keep them out.

  “That’s disgusting!” added Leny.

  Thankfully the front of the building was all windows, so it wasn’t too dark inside. Both women grabbed a shopping cart and pushed past the first checkout stand. When they crossed by the third checkout stand they noticed two dead bodies on the floor, one lying to the side of a shopping cart and the other beneath a cash register.

  Neither L
eny nor Mary said anything. They were getting use to it. Since they first surfaced from the protection of their sub-basement hospital cave, they’d seen lots of dead bodies. Yesterday Mary and Pam walked back to their homes and spent most of the afternoon digging graves for their two dead children. Neither said much. Most of the time they just dug and cried.

  “Canned goods are what I’m thinking,” said Mary. “And we should grab some cookies for the kids.”