“Do you know where we’re going now?” she asked.
I hadn’t made any long-term plans. “Down to the others, then…” I stopped because I didn’t have an answer.
“I’ll tell you where we’re going, back the way we came. Then to Buffalo. The Eco-Meat plant is on the way. There must be something left. I can get water. You start me a fire when we stop to rest. All those cans of food are still at the building we spent the night in, and I bet that we can find more. There are fewer people in the country, less competition. We need to get away before the diseases start. We need to get the children out. We can’t keep them quiet. They’re going to attract attention.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” The most important thing of all was she expected me to build a fire. I couldn’t let her down. How in the hell was I going to start a fire, short of rubbing two sticks together? I was starting to panic. We were almost with the rest of the group and I hadn’t thought of a way to start a fire. Think, think, think, asshole. Okay. I’ll need a strong stick to use as a dowel, then another one to use to hold the top and another one at the bottom, I can use my shoe laces as the string to spin the dowel, I can whittle some dry wood for kindling… Yea that’s the ticket, maybe I can; or maybe I can find a battery, some plastic, birch bark, …. Then I realized that everything I could think of was probably burned already. Why did she give me the hard part?
My deep thought was interrupted by the sound of something moving near a dumpster. I immediately went on full alert and reached for my knife. “Hey, get out of here!” I yelled more out of terror than aggression. My tubing was getting cleaned out today.
Whatever it was came running out of the darkness before Beth could turn on the flashlight. Beth found the switch about same time that we both figured what it was.
“I know youse guys,” said a small voice with no face.
Beth shined the light on him. I couldn’t remember his name, but I recognized the burns on his head and back.
“Marcos, is that you?” Beth pointed the beam directly at his face.
“How do you like your canteens?” he asked. The innocence of his youth spilled out of his smile and all over his cheeks. After all he’d been through, he could still smile.
Beth knelt down in front the boy. “Are you okay Marcos?”
“Can I stay with you? I’m scared and I’m thirsty and I’m hungry. C’mon let’s go hide.”
“What happened Marcos? What happened to Mick? Where’s everyone else?”
“I think there all dead,” he said.
“What did you see?”
“Some guys came up behind Irene and cut her neck with a knife. There was more too. I ran away and hid behind a burned bus. I watched where they couldn’t see me. I saw the train man fighting with two guys. He was winning for a while, but then the guy who killed Irene helped the other two. He couldn’t beat up all three. He started to scream. That’s when I ran away.”
Beth stood up and examined his wounds. “You can stay with us. There are some more kids you can play with just up the road. We’re going to take a long walk and get out of the city. Have you ever been to the country, Marcos?” Beth reached for his hand but he cried out in pain when his arm lifted. His burns were making his skin tighten up to the point that he didn’t want to move his arms.
Fortunately Beth was only four foot, eleven and one half of an inch tall. She only had to slouch down a little to hold his hand.
Before she shut off the flashlight, I noticed her gradually stand more upright. She wasn’t being lazy. She was doing it to exercise Marcos’ arm, to keep it flexible, so he didn’t lose his range of motion.
“I think it’s starting to rain, I just felt a sprinkle,” she said to Marcos.
I went back to thinking about how I was going to build a fire. Now I had to do it in the rain.
We could hear the babies crying. They were in an alleyway between two masonry buildings that hadn’t collapsed—actually pretty smart of Beth to put them there. Their crying could only be heard in about one general direction, and it was quickly apparent that it wasn’t going to end soon.
Huddled in the far corner the two women held the children, but keeping them quiet proved to be an impossibility.
While Beth gave everyone water, I kept looking for something to build a fire. I walked by Maria. Every now and then the flashlight would cross her face. I could see she had witnessed horrors in the darkness. Even though she was taking care of the little ones, her stare was off into the emptiness, aimed at some imaginary target.
She jumped as if startled. “Does anybody have any cigarettes?” she said without breathing enough air to finish the sentence. The word “cigarettes” was barely audible.
“Do you have a lighter?” I asked.
Without answering she dug into a pocket. Split seconds later she produced a Bic lighter, just like she had so many times on her way out to the designated smoking area,
“Sorry I don’t have any cigarettes, but if I could borrow that lighter, I would appreciate it.” She handed it to me without question, put her hands to her face and started crying.
I took off the cross, knelt down and handed it to Maria.
She took both my hands in hers, looked me straight in the eyes and said, “God bless you.” Raising my hands to her mouth, she kissed the cross before placing it around her neck.
Chapter 17
Marcos’s Inheritance
We headed out of the city. The rain was coming down quite steadily now. It felt great, unusually large drops of lukewarm rain, warmer than any hot summer cloudburst I had experienced. The grime of the city was washing off, but only on the outside, the filth on the inside would always be there. The memories of death, rape and murder would always cloud happy memories of a past that only seemed a dream now.
I looked up into the sky to let the water wash my face. The drops stung and made me blink. When I could keep an eye open long enough, I made out the outline of clouds in between the drops that slammed into my eyeball. Holding my hand up only concentrated the amount of water obscuring vision.
Now that it was raining, building a fire to boil water wasn’t needed. Now we had to find a way to catch water. Pots were easy to find since they were in every household. With a small amount of tugging, we freed a large sheet of steel roofing. There was little wood remaining under the bent metal.
We still had water, but decided to fill the canteens and containers while it was raining.
We took all the screws out of the corrugated roofing except one. The one on the corner would be used to hold the two corners together, making a funnel shape. Then we cleaned both sides with cloth. Not like cleaning with an antibacterial soap, but at least it took off most of the soot. Using a few cinderblocks we stabilized our makeshift aqueduct so the saucepot was at the lowest point.
Everyone huddled down on the driest side of a concrete wall that withstood the earthquake. Everyone but Marcos and me. We were the new water gatherers. We stood out in the open where we could capture only the cleanest rain, void of soot and ash.
I could tell the rain felt good on Marcos, he was moving more and crying less.
I felt uncomfortable standing there silent; I never held a good rapport with kids. “How old are you Marcos?” I asked in an attempt to stymie the awkwardness.
“I just turned eleven. Boy, it sure is raining now isn’t it, mister?”
We’d never been formally introduced. “My name’s Nick. Your shoulders are feeling better aren’t they?” The rain must have softened up his sores.
“Mick… just like the man with all the pills? He was nice and the medicine he gave me makes me feel better. He gave me a whole bunch. He told me to only take half of one when it starts to hurt. I still have two bags full.”
Now I was actually listening to him. “My name is Nick, with an N. Did you say Mick gave you bags of pills? Do you still have them? Can I see them?”
“He told me never to show them to anyone or even talk about them. I guess he can’t get
into any trouble now, can he?” He reached into his back pockets and pulled out two baggies, each packed to the point of ripping. He handed them to me. “Don’t tell anybody. Mick told me not to.”
I thought about what to say for a couple of seconds. “I think we should show these to the nurses, they know more about this stuff than I do. You hold on to it until we get someplace dry. You’ve got better pockets. Keep it in the baggies, and I’ll let you tell Beth. We‘ll see what she says.”
“Okay, Nick.” He tucked the overstuffed baggies back into his pockets, being careful not to rip the plastic.
It didn’t take long to see that we hadn’t washed the steel enough. There was still a lot of soot on the water when we looked at it with the flashlight. We dumped out the water that was in the pot, and proceeded to scrub the roofing again. This time it would be clean enough to drink.
Marcos and I set up the rain catcher again. It was raining so hard that we would accumulate more than we needed in no time.
While we were waiting for the pot to fill up, Marcos and I pulled some more metal off the rubble. We constructed a lean-to to keep the rain off the little ones.
Soon all the bellies were full of water, as were the vessels we carried. The rain was letting up; it was time to move on.
All the time we gathered our gear together, I waited for Marcos to talk to Beth.
She was busy with all the children and didn’t respond to anybody who wasn’t crying.
Once we started walking, the little ones went to sleep again. We all took turns carrying the babies. Their tummies were full, even if it was only water.
We needed to find food and shelter. I knew that the building where Beth and I had spent the night wasn’t much further up the road.
We had trouble finding the structure in the darkness. It stopped raining. I was glad Marcos and I had collected water when we had.
We came to the abandoned car with the doors open. I remembered this one. “We’ve got to turn around and go back,” I said. “I missed the spot that we’re going to camp for the night, it’s back this way about a mile or so.”
“God damn it, I can’t carry these kids forever.” Sarah was carrying Adam in her right arm, and Eve in her left. She bounced the boy on her hip to adjust the weight. “How in hell can you tell where to fuck we are?”
The abrupt movement woke the child, who started crying immediately. I was appreciative for the interruption because I had never told Beth about the man and the girls, and didn’t want to explain how I knew where I was, but especially didn’t want them to see the dead priest. We turned back the way we came from one more time.
The wailing was contagious and it wasn’t long before all the children were crying, all except Marcos. The crying was intolerable. Marcos and I walked up ahead of the others just to escape the irritation. Beth stayed back with the other nurses and children. I could hear them talking but couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“I think you better tell my wife about your pills in your pocket, they could help keep the kids quiet.”
“Mick said not to tell anyone about ’em.”
“Mick’s …” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I was so inept when dealing with a child. I couldn’t tell him that I saw Mick’s head on a pole. “Mick’s not here is he? Tell her soon, okay?”
“Okay, Nick. I’ll tell her.”
I half expected him to go running up to Beth. I had a way of driving kids away. It’s not that I didn’t like them, but they didn’t like me. I guess I caught a case of, “Grumpy old man syndrome” before it was due; kind of like some guys having male pattern baldness when they’re in their twenties. Often I’d envisioned myself hoarsely screaming at neighborhood boys. “Hey, get away from my apple trees!” I’d yell as I shook my cane.
We walked silently, except for the constant crying. The visions of the man and his daughters in their final resting place appeared in my mind’s eye. The more I tried to erase it, the more I thought about it.
I was glad to see the wires that were leading to and from the substation. I knew we were close. I should have noticed them before. This navigation mistake, which was totally my fault, wasted energy—energy that we couldn’t afford.
Finally, with the help of the flashlight, the protective fencing appeared. All the women and children went into the block building.
Marcos and I went looking for wood. There was nothing small to be found. We still had the hatchet, and even though there was little kindling, it didn’t take long to shave off enough charred bark to get at the dry wood underneath. Marcos made a bundle that was easily carried by wrapping wire around the chips and slivers that I hacked off. The whole thing ended up looking like a ball of copper yarn with the occasional piece of wood sticking out. It would take a pretty big cat whacked out on catnip to play with this yarn.
Looking at the bundle, I came up with an idea for a new torch. But first we had to get the fire going.
“When we get back, you tell my wife what you have in your pocket. Is that understood Marcos?”
“Okay.” He continued to gather wood as if I hadn’t even spoken.
“Marcos, I’m not kidding.” Maybe that was why I wasn’t good with kids. I wasn’t very patient.
We walked the short distance back to the substation. It was quiet until we walked into the building. A baby’s crying broke the silence. The children were being fed food from the wagons we’d left behind; they remained untouched.
“Beth, Marcos has something to tell you.” I could tell she wasn’t in the mood for games and this had better be important. The relentless bawling was more than she was accustomed to. Her grandchildren had never given her this much torment, but then they always had full stomachs and clean diapers.
Even with all the stress caused by the children, she managed to talk to him with a polite tone in a caring manner. “What do you have to tell me, Marcos? Come over here and tell me what’s wrong.”
“He told me not to tell anybody,” he whispered.
The flashlight pointed directly in my eyes. “It’s okay. She’s a nurse and she’ll know what’s right.
After some silent hesitation he eventually built up the courage and walked over to her. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
“Tell anyone what, Marcos?” Beth asked.
“Don’t tell anyone that I showed you these.” He struggled to pull the bags of pills out of his overstuffed pockets. One of the bags tore open, revealing its contents on the floor of the building. “Promise you won’t tell?”
“Let’s see what you’ve got there.” She leaned forward to pick up some of the pills to examine. “Can I borrow your flashlight? I promise I won’t tell.”
He handed the light to her.
“Thank you.”
Now all the nurses’ attentions were drawn away from their little patients, though the crying continued. The flashlight was passed around so each could give her own opinion.
“This is Oxycotin,” Maria said.
“No it isn’t, it’s Hydrocodone,” Sarah said.
“He’s got both.” Each hand held a sandwich bag full. “Marcos, Mick gave you these?”
“He said that he would rather have me have them, than have some weasel get them. Do weasels eat them? What’s a weasel?”
“Nick, give me your knife. I want to shave a little off one to give to Adam and Megan.” They were the children doing most of the crying. Adam had burns on his legs, and Megan cried constantly as if in pain, but showed no obvious wounds.
I reached for my knife only to discover the loop had broken. Two pats of each pocket were enough to tell me that I had lost the most important item we had recovered since we crawled out of that culvert. “I lost my knife, do you still have your tool, you used to kill…ah…stab…uh, or…save me?” I knew that the last thing she wanted was for the other women to know about the tower incident. I also knew she’d never talk about it again.
Beth’s right jean pocket still held the tool. She pulled out the murder
weapon, opened the blade, and washed it off with water from her canteen.
Gingerly, she shaved off some of the pill. “Here… give this to them, just put it under their tongue.” She passed the sliver to Sarah.
Sarah lashed out. “We know how. Remember we were nurses too; in the city… not some retarded country clinic.”
“You’re a nurse and you still use that word!” From the day Sally was born Beth detested when somebody used the “R” word in a derogatory fashion. “I would think you would be more educated and professional than that, working in the big city and all.”
“Just give me some of that,” Sarah said as she took some of the shavings and administered them to her tiny patient.
Once the medicine kicked in, it was silent again. Some slept; others stared blankly at the fire. Beth and Sarah swapped glares.
Chapter 18
New Wheels
Adam and Eve started our day with cries of pain. Both had sustained second-degree burns on their hands and lower arms. Eve’s face and head showed burn marks where embers had landed. Once one of us was awake, we all were. After all were fed, we made our way towards I-90. Marcos led the way pulling Megan and Tara in one of the wagons. The other contained the remainder of the food and drinks. We all switched off between carrying a child or pulling the wagon with the food, but Marcos refused to give up his turn. He was having too much fun. His burns no longer bothered him. The exercise loosened his tight skin giving him a wider range of motion than simply walking.
It was nice to hear the little ones laughing. Every time the wagon dropped off the tarmac, both Megan and Tara would giggle hysterically. The laughter was contagious. Nobody can avoid laughing when children are enjoying themselves. It took our mind off things for a while
The meat factory was over a mile away. Prevailing westerly winds carried clues to the condition of any food that might have made it through the fire. A ditch running along the road teamed with rats going in both directions. Those coming from the site were noticeably fatter than those heading in the opposite direction. Their squeaks could be heard over the sound of the wagons. I dealt with rats on a daily basis before this happened, but had never seen anything like this. At times they would climb over each other where the ditch narrowed.
The Second Intelligent Species: The Cyclical Earth Page 9