After a moment of study, she slowly pulled her foot back in the truck and closed the door. He took a deep breath and gave the truck some gas.
As they continued their journey down the interstate, she asked, “You’re not crazy are you?” The manner in which she asked it made it difficult to tell if she was joking or serious.
Chuck smiled as he thought of all the conversations he had with himself over the winter. “No, I’m not crazy.” Then as he wheeled the truck around a Volvo he asked, “Why were they chasing you—you are Cindy, right?”
“Yeah, who are you?”
“Chuck…well that’s what I answer to, my name is Charles Bain. And you, is it Cindy or is that short for Cynthia?”
“It’s plain old Cindy. Cindy McKay”
“Well Cindy, we’ve got another two or three hours on the road. Why don’t you tell me what was going on back there.”
She slowly shook her head as she stared through the window. For a moment he didn’t think she was going to answer, but then in a steady voice of reflection she said, “Jason wanted to kill me.”
That perked up his attention. “Is Jason the leader?”
“Yeah.”
“Is he the guy with the long hair who wears the duster?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
Knowing the man’s name gave him some satisfaction. He settled back down in the seat. “Why did he want to kill you?”
“They burned my baby…and I wouldn’t stop saying that what they did was wrong.”
“You had a baby?”
Her face twitched, as she turned toward him while trying to hold her lower lip firm. “No I lost him back when it was still cold out…still birth.” She addressed her runny nose and then confided, “I don’t think anyone has actually given birth to a live baby since the coming.”
The corner of Chuck’s mouth pulled up in a questioned snarl. “Coming…you mean the End?”
“End…Coming…whatever, that’s just what Jason called it.”
“So why did he burn your baby—was he afraid of disease?”
“No. That’s just what he does.” She took a deep breath as if she needed it to continue. “He likes to burn people.”
“That’s fucking crazy!” Chuck exclaimed, as he tightened his grip on the wheel. “Why in the hell would he do something like that?”
“I don’t know. If you don’t agree with him…power trip…you name the reason—any is as good as the next.”
“So he was going to burn you because you said it was wrong to burn your dead baby.”
“Yeah, I think so. I wanted my baby buried,” she said wishfully as she dipped her head. “I didn’t want to see him thrown in the pile with the rest of them. You can understand that can’t you?”
Chuck nodded in silence.
“And I guess I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut afterward. I knew I was walking on thin ice…had been for several weeks. I just didn’t care.” She raised her face. “That is until he sent them for me…then I guess I did care. I mean since I ran and all.”
“And no one would stand up for you?”
“Most of them believe in what he says so they do it without question. And the ones who have tried to stand up to him…” she lowered her face again and shook her head, “…they didn’t make it.”
“What does he say, you know, to get the others to follow him?”
“He tells them that all this is God’s way of finding out who’s worthy. That he’s the hand of God and that God told him to burn—or cleanse as he likes to put it—all those who would not follow the word of God.”
Chuck’s jaws tensed up. “Why is it that whenever anything good or bad happens, some asshole tries to make it religious.” His lips pinched together. “Is that what you think?”
She reared back. “Hey I’m here with you aren’t I? No one can tell me that God didn’t want us to ever have babies again. But the stories I’ve heard…”
“What stories?”
“Some people say that Jason can’t be killed.”
Chuck took his eyes off the road and looked at her. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Just what I’ve heard. He’ll give anyone a chance who wants to take it.”
Chuck thought of the woman he shot and the words that Jason yelled to her ‘Are you the one that will stop me’. “Has anyone taken him up on it?”
“They say some men have tried.”
“What happened to them?”
“They’re dead.”
Chuck looked back at the dark path ahead of them and shook his head. “How many survived up there?”
“There’s probably been a couple of dozen under Jason at different times. And then I don’t know. We find heathens every once in a while.” Cindy gave a queer smile and shook her head. “I mean stragglers; you know, folks by themselves, hiding around the city.”
“All ages?”
“All ages, both sexes, some who were once rich and others who have always been poor. Besides me there were two other women who had gotten pregnant since the…the End. One was older and the other was about the same age as me.”
“Have you been with Jason and the others the entire time?”
“Pretty much…they found me wandering around late last summer and took me in. They gave me food and water and a warm place to stay.”
The image of the woman he shot popped back in his head. That must have been about that same time last year. He kept his eyes on the dark road ahead of them as he remembered the small crowd standing in the shadows around Jason that night. None of them lifted a finger to stop the tragedy. He was about to ask if she was there, but then thought better of it—what would be gained by knowing. Instead, he asked, “Was it one of them that got you pregnant?”
“No…it was like a week or so after I woke up—” she paused and looked at Chuck as he nodded that he knew what she meant. “I don’t know who it was. I was searching for food and then the next thing I know I’m on my back and some white guy is on top of me.” Her eyes took on a distant look. “I didn’t even try to fight him off. It didn’t matter. Back then there wasn’t anything that he could have done to me that would have mattered. Fact was, I was happy to feel the company of someone. I would have done anything he wanted if he would have stayed.”
Chuck nodded once and said, “I know what you mean.”
“What about you, how many others are alive in Madison?”
Suddenly he felt embarrassed about being the only survivor. “No others—just me.”
She perked up and gave him her full attention. “Just you?”
He turned his eyes from her. “Yeah.”
“My God, all this time by yourself?”
A thankful sigh escaped as he realized the situation was about to change. “Yeah.”
“Were you married?”
Chuck turned his attention back to the road as he softly confided, “My wife didn’t make it.”
“Your children didn’t make it either?”
Chuck simply said, “No…”
His answer seemed to pull the life from his passenger. The air left her lungs and she fell back against the seat in a stupor.
“What about you?” he asked quickly. “What were you doing before it happened?”
Cindy was still distant when she answered. “I was about to get my education degree. I always wanted to teach grade school.” She pulled herself from the memories of what was once to be and added, “I was about to graduate from IUPUI.” She smiled painfully, and after a lingering moment said, “I was from Lawrence Township on the east side. My family didn’t make it either. My little brother and my mother, I mean.” She paused to rub her face. “My father died several years ago.” She started shaking her head. “I…always regretted that he wasn’t going to get to see me graduate from college…it would have made him proud.”
There was a long awkward silence as neither knew what to say. They passed the congestion around Greenwood and Franklin and then hit several miles where th
e interstate was barely cluttered. Cindy cleared her throat, and while making enough commotion to ensure that Chuck saw her, she set the revolver down on the seat between them and returned her gaze out the windshield. It was a nice gesture that actually made him smile. A moment later they caught each other glancing and they both smiled.
A few miles farther down, Cindy broke the silence. “Are you originally from Madison?”
“Yeah, I grew up there.”
“After everything ended, you were never tempted to leave?”
Before everyone died—before he knew better, his answer would have been quick and simple. It would have been an ecstatic ‘You bet I have!’ As it turned out his answer was equally as simple after it all ended. “No, it’s my home. Besides it has everything I need as far as food, water and shelter goes. And I know you probably don’t believe this, but being the only one there does have some advantages…I don’t have to worry about some lunatic trying to burn me alive.”
Cindy smiled and conceded his point with a nod. “I bet you used to be a cop.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Back there, the way you snuck up on Justin and took him out.” She tilted her head. “But you didn’t kill him. And the way you approached me. It seemed like you had done that kind of thing before.”
Chuck grinned. “No, I’m not a cop.” He smiled to the point of laughing. “I owned an antique store.”
Chapter 28
Chuck and Cindy traded yawns the last hour of the drive. Finally at a little past two in the morning they pulled up in front of the Victorian in Madison. Cindy plopped down on the sofa in the parlor and was already asleep by the time Chuck got back with a blanket from the bedroom. He threw it over her before hitting the sack himself.
He woke earlier than normal the next day and decided to treat his guest to a special breakfast—his very own recipe that he affectionately referred to as ‘egg slop’. It was a combination of instant eggs, powdered potatoes and imitation bacon bits all stirred together and cooked on his propane stove.
He was spooning it on the plates as Cindy walked in the kitchen and stretched. “What time is it?”
He glanced at his watch and was about to tell her when she started to laugh. The time of day was an invention of the past that had very little meaning in the present. There were no schedules to keep, jobs to get too or television shows to watch. “Get out of here,” he smarted back with a grin as he set the plates down on the table. He brought two glasses of tang over from the counter and they sat down together. The anticipation was killing him as he glanced at the meal and then looked across the table at her. “Well…what do you think?”
She had a perplexed look on her face as she stared at the plate and asked, “What’s it supposed to be?”
“It’s egg slop…you know…eggs, potatoes, bacon and—”before he could finish, he remembered the cheese. In a matter of seconds he was peeling the metal lid off a can of cheese dip he retrieved from the cupboard. He scooped out a spoonful of the creamy, orange gel and plopped it in the middle of her egg slop the way one would top a dessert with whipped cream.
She reared back. “You are kidding I hope?”
At first he thought she was joking, but as he quickly recognized the look on her face as real disgust, his rear sank back in the chair. He popped up and grabbed her plate. “Fine! Don’t eat. I couldn’t care less.”
He was halfway to the garbage can when she blurted out, “Wait! Let me try it.”
He held the plate over the trash can for a moment as he turned and looked at her.
“Really…let me try it.”
He sucked on his gums in a moment of deliberation before finally walking back over and slipping the plate in front of her. He sat down and set about watching her tentatively poke his pride and joy meal with her fork. Just as he was about to retrieve it again, she finally took a bite.
The first couple of chews were slow and cautious, but then the tension left her face and she dug her fork back in for a heartier bite. Two bites later she was really going at it—silently moaning her enjoyment after each swallow. As he watched her dig in, he pulled his plate closer to himself and positioned his arms around it. “My God woman—you eat like a pig!”
The comment didn’t break her stride. She continued to shovel forkful after forkful into her mouth even as she started laughing. Food fell from her mouth as she coughed out, “Mister you sure can cook. I mean it may look like shit, but it’s damn good.”
In less than a minute Cindy pushed back from the table and stretched out in her chair while Chuck finished his plate. In between a bite, he asked, “You guys were eating up there weren’t you?”
Cindy smiled and relaxed. “Yeah we ate, but nothing as flavorful as this. And I love food…always have.” She pushed up in her chair and announced to the world, “I used to be so fat…Now look at me, I can tell where my tits end!” Like an explosion, she burst out laughing almost before she finished the sentence.
It caught Chuck off guard. He coughed out the spoonful of slop that was halfway down his throat and started laughing too. It was his first real release of tension in some time, and after a few seconds he was laughing so hard he started tearing up. Then his back began to quiver behind the laughter. Before long his hands joined in, and his lips started quivering. Without realizing it, he had gone full swing from laughter to sobbing, and for the life of him, he couldn’t stop. He glanced over and saw the look of concern on her face.
As the sobs grew more emotional and less controllable, he got up and turned his back to her. He walked over and stood at the sink, still sobbing for no apparent reason. A quick peek over his shoulder confirmed that she was still at the table, eyes lowered to her lap and allowing him his space. He was at a loss for words to explain this sudden outbreak. Bobbing his head and crying, he turned back to her and said, “I’m sorry…just give me a few minutes…”
Later that day, he showed her where everything was in the main house and then introduced her to the carriage house out back. “This little baby is my generator.”
“So that’s what’s been making that constant noise. I honestly don’t know how you ever get any sleep.”
“You get used to it,” he replied as he pumped his shoulders. He pointed out the series of 55-gallon drums. “There’s enough gas in these eight drums to keep the generator going non-stop for several weeks.” It was stated as fact, although he actually had no idea. They continued over to the other side of the carriage house and he displayed the shelves loaded down with 12-volt batteries and propane tanks. “As you can see we’re pretty well stocked.”
Cindy gestured to the pile of copper tubing, steel tanks and screens in the corner. “What’s this stuff for?”
“I was thinking about building a water purification system.”
“You know how to do that?”
Chuck smiled and said, “Sure, the library’s got a few books on it.”
“I’m not keeping you from it am I?”
“No…no…I haven’t done anything on it for a while,” Chuck answered as he stared at the pile of junk. It was true—he hadn’t done anything with it in quite a while. That got him wondering what he had been doing all winter and spring.
“If you want to tell me what to do, I’d be more than happy to help.”
Without thinking about it, he reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. “I appreciate the offer, but—” They both looked at his hand on her shoulder at the same time. His weight shifted to his toes and as his face started to flush, he quickly pulled his hand back and said, “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to touch you.”
Cindy shot him a queer look as she tried to understand. “You don’t have to apologize for putting your hand on my shoulder.” She took a step toward him and when that sent Chuck back a step in retreat, she sunk down heavy on her heels in a moment of disbelief.
As she looked up, the pain and resentment in her eyes slowly vanished into the distant look of a blank face. She had misinterprete
d his action. Life had conditioned her to read what he did as prejudice. She thought he pulled away because of the color of her skin.
The truth was that for close to a year he hadn’t felt the warmth of another living creature—let alone another person. To finally feel it again, stirred up a feeling in him that aside from his wife, he hadn’t felt for a woman since his days in high school. He felt that same warmth surge through his chest that made his heart pound with renewed life. No, there wasn’t any prejudice behind his retreat—it was guilt. He felt like he was being unfaithful to Becky.
Not knowing what else to do, he took a jerky step toward her and asked, “Would you like to walk through town with me?”
She held her ground and asked defiantly, “Why…what’s the point in that?”
“I do it everyday. I go out to a different area and search around, see if there’s anything I can use. Besides, I thought it might be nice to get a little fresh air.”
He felt like he was being studied as she scanned him from head to foot and back again. Then without answering, she turned, and headed for the door. Right before going out, she called over her shoulder, “You coming?”
He joined her and together they walked out to the curb and took a left on Main Street to stay in the residential section. Neither said a word for the first three blocks. Chuck finally broke the silence when he pointed across the intersection. “We’ll turn here and search the homes a few blocks in.”
Cindy appeared a little tense as she kept her eyes on the houses across the street. “Don’t all the remains freak you out?”
“No, there aren’t any around here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I took care of them.” Cindy continued her questioning stare, so he explained, “I spent the first several weeks taking their bodies…” he motioned with his eyes and a nod of his head to the surrounding homes, “…down to the river. I got the idea when I saw other bodies floating down stream. I know it’s not really a proper burial, but I thought it was better than nothing.” As he finished the explanation, he was happy to see that she appeared to be taking down the wall that had sprung up between them back in the carriage house. She was letting her emotion show again. Her look was somewhat hard to decipher—it could have been respect, or it could have been curiosity. But when it came to her smile, it didn’t really matter to him where it came from.
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