Hive

by J. K. Accinni

  She thought perhaps she should find a motel for her and the girls to rest. Eight hours of driving in heavy traffic under extreme stress would take a toll on the best of drivers and she was waging a constant battle with her eyelids as it was.

  Lorna pulled off the freeway ramp to find herself in a rural town without a main street. She drove along deserted streets, most houses boarded up, lumber strapped to windows, shades drawn. She found it difficult to ascertain if people were hiding inside to protect against possible bombing or if they had fled down the freeway, hoping they would have a life and a homestead to return to after the madness.

  Within a few blocks, she came upon a gas station, the attendants sporting guns strapped to their hips like old-time western gunslingers. Grim expressions told her they were in no mood to suffer fools. Getting in line, she and the girls faced a long wait. She prayed the station would still have gas to sell by the time her turn came.

  As she watched the cars leave the station and head toward the ramp for the expressway, she realized the station’s customers all came from out of town.

  “Girls, see the stars coming out? How would you like to stop and rest? We can take a nap and have a bite to eat before we get back on the road.” Suzy sat in the front seat between her grandmother and her big sister. She sat curling her short legs up so her feet reached her mouth where she tried to suck on her toes, cramming them in as she mumbled softly.

  “Gram, I have to go potty.”

  Lorna glanced down at her doll baby. Suzy’s grin stretched from cheek to cheek as her sister, Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Can you wait a while longer, sweetie? There’s only six more cars in front of us. Then we’ll find a motel.”

  “Okay, Gram.” Her slobber-covered toes reclaimed their spot.

  “Do you think the TV will work, Gram? My show comes on in an hour.” Jennifer sounded perturbed and annoyed. Her demeanor had screamed bored to death since they had left Tampa. Lorna’s efforts to engage her in games fell on affronted ears.

  They finally reached the pumps and had the tank filled. Lorna breathed a sigh of relief, comforted with the shot of confidence a full tank of gas can give a girl. The attendant directed her to a motel along the road with the warning that they had better lock up their car real tight.

  “Marauders and gangs love to prey on a car full of pretty women.” He threw a wink Jen’s way, getting a reluctant smile for his effort.

  As they pulled into the crowded gravel parking lot of the two-story nondescript motel, Lorna prayed they would find an available room. Instructing the girls to keep the car locked, she pushed her way through the heavy lobby door to be met with screams.

  The shabby lobby held a rough Naugahyde plaid sofa containing a chubby young teen with short black hair. A cheap plastic lamp on the floor appeared to have fallen off a small table next to the sofa, and the girl was fending off the attack of an older woman with a name tag pined to her nylon shirt that failed to completely cover her bloated stomach. The young girl’s legs fought with the woman’s fingers as she tried to wrench an apple out of the young girl’s hands.

  “If you don’t give me that apple back, you little brat, I’m calling the cops. They’ll make sure you have a nice place to sleep tonight, though you won’t like the food, I can assure you.” She stopped struggling with the young girl as she spotted Lorna standing at the reception desk. She yanked the apple from the girl’s hands, smoothed down her shirt and scampered behind the desk to put on her bright welcoming smile.

  “Can I help you, madam?” Lorna’s gaze shifted from the desk clerk back to the young girl on the sofa, who now sobbed into her elbow, hopelessness oozing from her defeated posture.

  “Don’t mind her, madam. She’s just a transient, begging for food and a place to sleep.” She leaned over the desk to holler at the girl.

  “Move on now, you hear . . . before I decide to kick your ass again.”

  The chubby young girl picked up a knapsack at her feet and limped out the heavy door, briefly making eye contact with Lorna. In that split second, Lorna saw pain and panic.

  Quickly checking into the motel, Lorna gathered her room key and purse to exit the reception door, scanning the parking lot for the young girl. Sitting on the lumpy gravel, the girl leaned up against the wall of the motel, her eyes focused skyward as if searching for the star that would wish a solution down into her lap.

  “Hon, are you okay? Do you need some help?” Lorna waved to her grandchildren in the car as she knelt along the concrete wall of the motel. The young girl’s eyes closed up like a trapdoor and a hand reached up to wipe away the evidence of tears.

  “My name’s Lorna. Where are your parents?”

  The girl sighed, her eyes downward as she begrudgingly gave her name. “I’m Maryann. My parents are in Pennsylvania.” She swallowed heavily, turning big sad cornflower eyes to Lorna.

  “What in the world are you doing here, Maryann? Do you know about the bombs? Come on, come with me. Let’s get you something to eat. You can stay with us for tonight.” Maryann protested as Lorna forced her to her feet, directing her to the car. She motioned to Jen to unlock the car door as she shooed them over to squeeze Maryann into the back seat. Maryann stopped resisting as Lorna introduced her to the girls.

  “We can talk more after we get settled into our room. We have two beds so we can double up. All set?” Lorna started the car without waiting for a response, driving the car to the rear of the motel. They quickly unloaded the few things they would need, including just enough food to make sandwiches and some water bottles.

  “Jen, please grab me those empties on the floor in the back seat. I think it would be wise to refill them from the tap.”

  “Oh, Gram, is that really necessary?” Lorna swallowed, counting to ten.

  Settling inside their room as best they could, Lorna pushed herself to make the sandwiches even as she longingly eyed the ramshackle beds. They girls took turns in the tiny bathroom without complaint.

  “Gram, can I turn on the TV to watch my show?” Jen stood munching her sandwich, switching on the big clunky television, at least a decade old.

  “I don’t think your show will be on, hon. I’m sure everything has been pre-empted. We want to hear some news, anyway.” Lorna reached into her bag for her hand lotion, inspecting her manicure. “Try one of the New York stations if you can get it, that’s where we’re headed. Grandpa is going to meet us in that area. He has a place that will keep us safe. It sounds like a huge bomb shelter.”

  “Gram . . . you better listen to this.” Tears dripped from Jen’s eyes as she ran to her grandmother. The other two girls glanced up from their eating, alarm in their eyes.

  “Fox News sadly reports that our broadcast headquarters and that of NBC, CBS, and ABC have been hit. We are coming to you from our satellite office in Atlanta with the tragic news that at 11:25 p.m. Eastern Standard Time, the once iconic center of the financial world, New York City, was the target of the second bomb . . . President of the United States . . . to Canada . . . twenty five million . . . unaccountable suburbs . . . highest alert . . . shelters limited.

  “In further news, reports are streaming in about the catastrophe in Israel. The United Nations Security Council urges calm as the President decides how to respond to Iran’s nuclear attack. Russia issues a stern warning against any U.S. interference. Officials regretting prior administration’s capitulation to Russia of U.S. missile defense systems. North Korea on high alert.”

  Lorna snapped off the TV, her heart hammering painfully as she paced, raking her fingers through her frosted hair in cold horror.

  Suzy sensed her frenzy, clutching her grandmother’s legs to make her hold still. “Pick me up, Gram, pick me up.”

  She bent down to embrace the little girl, turning to Maryann. “Maryann, I’m sure you realize I can’t just leave you here. Why don’t you tell me how you got here and we’ll try to figure out what to do.”

  Maryann quickly told Lorna the
story of her parents in Port Jervis, Pennsylvania. When a wealthy couple from Connecticut advertised for a summer sitter for their two children she had jumped at the chance to get out of their poverty-stricken town for the summer. The couple planned to visit family in Naples, Florida, taking her along. They decided they no longer needed her services after other relatives showed up and, paying her a bonus, put her on a plane home that had a stop in Houston, Texas. Of course, the plane never made it out of Houston because of the grounding. So she had been hitching ever since. She had spent the last of her bonus money and had no place to sleep. She had just been caught stealing an apple by the unsympathetic motel clerk when Lorna walked into the lobby.

  “You want to come along with us? You’re much too young to be on the roads like this. It’s too dangerous out there. We’re headed to northwestern New Jersey, that’s near where you live, isn’t it?” Maryann gratefully nodded, getting an interested sidelong glance from Jen. Lorna prayed Maryann might exert a positive influence on her granddaughter, or at least keep her distracted during the drive. She reached into her bag for her alarm clock, setting it so they could get at least six hours sleep. She was afraid to sleep longer, not knowing what conditions they might wake up to.

  *

  The four females slept soundly in their cramped motel beds, the saggy mattresses no roadblock to the relief found in truly exhausted bone-weary sleep. No one noticed when the bed shook or the alarm clock fell off the cracked nightstand. All eyes missed the flicker of the ceiling lights in the bathroom or the fact that they failed to come back on. No ears heard the quiet tick, tick, tick of the air conditioner as it shut down. No one watched out the only window in the room as the neon lights in the parking lot shut off and the streetlights followed, casting all objects in nothing other than the silver wash of the relentless moon.

  The night remained soundless, spooking a lonely stray behind the motel as she sniffed for discarded scraps, anxious to return to her litter and hide away from the daytime sun. She raised her head to howl as once again the beds in the hotel gently shook their occupants, who were sleeping soundly while the world imploded around them.

  *

  Lorna woke slowly, her consciousness resisting the urge to fully wake. She smiled in her sleep as a lingering dream of Clyde as a young man flitted through her mind, disappearing quickly as she tried to focus on the fact that the alarm hadn’t rung.

  Springing out of bed, she masked her shock as the light streaming in the window told her it was long past the time to rise. Damn, we’re late and better get on the road instantly. Waking the girls she gave instructions to hurry.

  Playing with the TV remote she experienced annoyance. The TV failed to turn on. The manual switch gave no better results. Peering out the window, she flinched as a noisy flock of what appeared to be army helicopters passed over the road.

  Hustling the girls to the rental car, Lorna tried the radio. Nothing. Pulling around the front of the hotel, she encountered a group of men bashing in the windows of an SUV with what looked like an axe. They unlocked the door to raid the contents, before running off into the distance with their loot. Lorna thought it looked like foodstuff.

  “Girls, lock the doors, I don’t like the looks of this.” She headed for the ramp of the freeway, anxious to make up some time. “Jen, I want you and Maryann to spread the lap blanket over the boxes of food. Pile your luggage on top. That’s good, thanks girls.”

  “Gram, are we going the right way? Everyone else is driving the other way.”

  Lorna flipped her head around to the back seat, trying to keep an eye on the events outside the car. A line of stragglers walking in the opposite direction of their car thickened to a stream; people lugging possessions, children struggling to keep up. They shared one thing in common. They all looked scared shitless.

  “I don’t know, hon. Maybe something happened up in front of us.” The traffic on their side of the road moved quickly, vehicles sparse. Lorna noticed the traffic next to her going the opposite way had finally dribbled to a halt. Slowing down, she pulled alongside a vehicle loaded with people and pets. She rolled down her window and waved, signaling she needed to talk.

  “Yes? Can I help you, lady?” The man at the wheel sounded beaten down, his face greenish gray.

  “Where are you coming from, sir? Something happen up there?”

  “Lady, you gotta turn around. You have to get out of here fast. There’s no telling how far the radiation goes.”

  “Radiation?”

  He did a double take, looking at her as if she had just grown another head.

  “Lady, where you been? The Russkies just dropped the bomb on Chicago last night. I heard reports D.C. got hit too. Stay away from the cities. You better take cover somewhere. The President ordered strikes. Don’t worry, we’ll massacre ‘em. No telling when it’ll be over or what shape we might be in. All the utility grids are down. Watch your gasoline. The pumps don’t work.” The line started to move. He waved. “You take care now.” Lorna sped up the car, trying to locate an off-ramp. Her stomach threatened to roll over from the stress, her shock noticeable to the girls.

  “Gram, what are we going to do now? Should we call Grandpa? He’ll come get us.”

  “Grandpa isn’t going to come save us, dummy. We’re in shit deep trouble.” Jen’s voice sounded like she was holding back tears. Maryann reached around Jen’s tender shoulders, offering her support. Jen leaned her head on Maryann’s shoulder, both girls too young to help themselves, but old enough to understand their lives would never be the same.

  Lorna pulled off the highway heading east. If the bomb had hit Chicago, which was north, they were far enough away to be safe. Eventually they would have had to turn east anyway. Now they would just meander through the center of the country and the small towns that hold it up.

  As they exited the ramp, desperate vehicles decided to enter the ramp the wrong way in their panic to brave the freeway. They, too, came to a standstill. On the side of the road they noticed a crowd of jeering men and boys. Driving by slowly, Lorna witnessed a man on top of a young woman. Her clothes lay strewn on the ground as the man raped her. Two other men stood with their pants at their ankles, stroking their penises as they hovered over the figures on the ground while the rest cheered. What looked to be the victim’s car stood nearby with the doors wide open, her purse on the ground and a child strapped in his car seat alone in the back. Oh, my God. Lorna sobbed as she pressed the window switch, rolling it down.

  “Leave her alone, you sick bastards. I’m getting the cops.”

  “Hey, bitch, why don’t you come join us?” They laughed and jiggled their penises at her.

  “Gram, drive. Get us out of here.” Jen sounded hysterical. She glanced in the back seat, at Maryann’s shocked face and Jen sitting with her hands over her mouth. She watched in the rearview mirror as they drove away, hoping someone would be brave enough to help the poor woman. How could law and order fall apart so quickly? She pulled off to the side of the road, turned off the ignition and sobbed into her hands on the steering wheel. Suzy threw her arms around Lorna, crying with her while the two other girls sat stunned in the back seat.

  “There, there, baby, it’s alright, Gram’s okay.” She patted Suzy on the head, groping in her purse for a tissue. She wiped her nose, feeling more in control.

  “Sorry, girls . . . don’t worry. I just let the moment get the best of me.” Trying hard to smile, she reassured the girls. “Let’s figure out what old Gram is going to do now.” She stared out the window, let out a sigh while she wiped her nose again, and took out the map.

  “Okay. I see where we can make good time. I think we might be safer if we stay on the country roads. Let’s not lose this map, or we’re sunk, okay, girls? Maryann, can you hold onto this for me?” She handed the map back to the girls and was rewarded by a brave smile from Maryann, her dark hair a halo of solemnness.

  Lorna decided to drive until she dropped. She would hold off
on telling the girls that they would have to sleep in the car tonight. She just found the idea of getting out of the car to face any strangers too daunting, too dangerous. Tapping her manicured fingers on the steering wheel, she brightened her voice for the girls. “We all set?”

  Maryann cleared her voice from the back seat. “Lorna, I’m sorry, I have to go to the bathroom.”

  Suzy piped up. “Me too, Gram. I have to go.”

  Lorna’s mind ground to a halt. What to do?

  “Okay.” She started the car, pulling further down the road until they pulled into a winding stone driveway that led to an old farmhouse. Pulling to the side of the drive, she opened her door.

  “Girls, we’re going to take turns going on the side of this drive. Hop out on your side and go now. Jen, you go after Maryann whether you think you have to or not. Suzy, you scoot over here. Let me help you.”

  Accomplishing the task amid much awkwardness, they set out again; doors locked and spirits repurposed. They drove for hours, sticking to the back roads, passing vehicles going in all different directions, seemingly like ants disturbed in the ant hill, panicked and directionless.

  As the sun began to dip on the horizon preparing to bid goodnight, they found themselves alone on the road with a car displaying Maine license plates, the doors hanging open, the figure of a woman lying on the side of the road. They slowly rolled their car to a stop behind the woman’s car. Lorna scanned the area for other lurking figures, still smarting from her cowardly behavior this morning.

  “I’m going to check on this poor woman. You girls stay here, lock the door behind me.”

  “No, Gram, don’t go.” Suzy began to scream.

  “No, please stay here. We can’t help her. We need to go.” The girls pleaded with her as she stepped outside the car, shutting the door firmly. Slowly making her way to the front of the Maine car, she glanced inside, seeing another baby car seat, but no baby.