American Apocalypse Wastelands

by Nova

  The second house looked occupied but no one answered.

  “You think they’re at work?”

  I looked at him and laughed. “Yeah, right.”

  I realized we were going to need to make up some fliers. Let people know we weren’t there to serve papers or evict them. The suburban setting was beginning to lull me into complacency. “Look, Diesel. When we walk up to these doors, I want us to approach as if there is a crazy on the other side with a shotgun in hand and a belief that we are coming to evict him.”

  “Yeah, makes sense. How do you want to do it?”

  “I’ll knock on five doors. Then you knock on five. The other guy will hang back at an angle to provide support. You know, just in case the door explodes. Watch the windows, too.”

  “I know, I know. I’ve done this before.”

  I just stared at him thinking, Why do people have to make everything so complicated. I waited until he looked away. My glow from being so mature earlier was rapidly dissipating.

  The next house looked empty, too. “Sweet Jesus. Anyone still live in this town?” I rattled the doorknob. It was unlocked. I looked in the window. I could see some furniture, but the house had that empty feel.

  I opened the door and the stink hit me. I turned around and gave him the hand sign DANGER without even thinking. God bless military standardization. He knew the sign, and I saw his body language change.

  “I think the place is clear. I’m going in.” He nodded and jumped up on the porch with me. I went in first. Nothing. I yelled, “Hello! Police!” Still nothing. I did it the way Max had taught us. Diesel had been to the same school, which made it fast and a lot easier.

  We found the source of the stink in the kitchen. Whoever had lived here had left their dog behind. It had died of thirst, probably trying to get to the sink. I don’t know. I hoped they had stuck around. I would like to talk to them.

  We backed up and out.

  Diesel said, “Assholes.”

  I nodded thinking, Hey, the first time we actually agreed on something. We both dislike dog killers.

  “We are going to check upstairs and the basement. God knows what else we will find.”

  “Probably grandma,” was his reply. It was almost funny.

  We didn’t find grandma. We didn’t find much of anything. I noticed that out here in the country, the houses seemed to remain in the same state the owners had left them. No trashing of the property or stripping of the appliances. The owners just decided one morning to load up the car and go somewhere else.

  These people had forgotten the family dog. I saw evidence of kids, so I wondered what they had been told. Something like, “Sorry, son. Rover is going to stay here and watch the place for us” or “Someone is going to come by and take care of him.”

  I don’t know why it bothered me so much. It wasn’t like I didn’t know firsthand how a lot of them would discard their own kids if they felt they needed to.

  A couple of houses later, someone actually answered his door. He was a white guy, tousled hair, stained T-shirt. He hadn’t shaved for a few days. When he opened the door, he just stood there blinking at us like we were apparitions.

  We were a little off-balance ourselves. Since finding the dog we were a bit edgy. I think we would have been quicker to respond if a shotgun blast had greeted us. So we all stood there for an awkward couple of seconds, staring at each other.

  “Can I help you?”

  Diesel was doing the door knocking at this point, so he got to answer. “Hello, sir. We are from the local police and, um, we are new, so we, um . . .”

  “I know you,” the man said. “You’re Frank’s kid.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Come on in. Don’t mind the mess.”

  His front room was a disaster. Clothes lay wherever he had tossed them. Shoes were scattered across the floor. Dirty glasses and a bottle without a label sat on a side table next to his La-Z-Boy recliner. The room didn’t smell too bad, always a plus.

  “So how’s your dad? I haven’t seen him in months.”

  They spent a few minutes chatting about Diesel’s father, and what a shame it was that the town wasn’t what it used to be, but that he had heard the fishing was good.

  “And who’s this?” Meaning me, of course.

  “This is Officer Gardener. Officer Gardener, this is Mr. Morris.” We shook hands and said our howdies.

  “He’s on the police force with me. We are walking around and introducing ourselves, seeing if folks need anything. Seeing if there are any problems.”

  “When did we get a police force? I thought they left town because they didn’t like getting paid with promises.” He thought that was pretty funny.

  “Yesterday.” I decided to join the conversation, mainly in the hope that I could bring it to a swift end.

  Jeebus, if everyone who answered the door took this long to get to the point, it would take us a month to do this. Of course, then I had to answer where I was from and listen to him tell me about his cousin Mel who had taken the family to Northern Virginia to look for work six months ago. Did I know him? Yep. This was going to take a while.

  I was hoping to wind it up so we could move along when the guy surprised me.

  “Well, sounds good to me,” he said. “What can I do to help? I’m getting tired of sitting around here on my ass.”

  That is when I had a minor burst of inspiration. Diesel was saying, “Oh, we have it under control—” when I cut him off.

  “Actually, Mr. Morris, there is something you can do.”

  His whole face changed when I said that. This guy really wanted to do something.

  “We could use your help. We need a block leader for this street.”

  “What the hell is that, son?” He wasn’t being hostile or a smart ass. He was genuinely curious. So was Diesel.

  “Well, a block leader makes a list of the houses on his block: which ones are empty, which ones aren’t, who lives there. If they don’t know about us, you could tell them. If you know anybody who is really short on food or medicine, let us know. I don’t know how much we can do but we can try. And you can tell us if anything suspicious is going on.”

  “You’re asking me to spy on my neighbors?”

  “No, sir, not at all, Mr. Morris.” This was Diesel. “Actually we were hoping you would lead them. Be the point of contact. I think Officer Gardener meant to say ‘block manager.’”

  He liked that. I liked that too. Block manager sounded white-collar and much more American.

  He was getting excited. “That’s a good idea. We need to get organized. The damn government ain’t doing shit.” He looked at me. “I thought you were talking about spying at first. Like some kind of Zone shit, but this is good.” He was nodding his head the entire time. I also noticed he was standing a little straighter. Five minutes later I had us heading out the door.

  “An Asian woman named Night may get in touch with you about this,” I told him.

  He grinned. “I do love Asian women.”

  “So do I. She’s going to be my wife.” That wiped the stupid grin off his face. We left him standing in the door, waving goodbye to us and yelling how we would hear from him soon.

  I walked away somewhat stunned at what I had just said. I wondered how Night would feel about it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The next evening we were all sitting around on the porch after dinner when Max rolled in late. When he walked up to the house he wasn’t alone. Shelli was with him. They walked up the stairs to the porch with Max trying to play it off like it was no big deal, but it wasn’t working.

  Old Guy turned to Tommy and in a falsetto voice, said, “Looky, our boy done grown up and got hisself a woman!” They fell over laughing. Of course, Old Guy had to repeat it a few more times.

  Night got up, hugged Shelli, and welcomed her to the house. Then she went inside and came back with a couple bowls of what was left over from dinner.

  Max turned it down at first. He change
d his mind when he saw Night get that glint in her eyes. Shelli had no problems with eating it. I am sure she had eaten earlier, but she didn’t act like it. She praised it repeatedly, which was a big deal for Night.

  I think it was bunny stew with carrots, which was pretty funny, if it was true. I decided not to share that with everyone. Usually, when I tried to be funny people looked at me like I was from another planet. Night would often laugh at my attempts at humor, but anything to do with her cooking was off limits.

  I was also in the mood, and I wanted it reciprocated later. Plus, I had something I wanted to ask Night, and it would help if she wasn’t glaring at me.

  I sat back trying to figure out how I could find a ring. Wasn’t I supposed to wait until I had a ring? Maybe Old Guy could help me.

  Meanwhile, Night was sitting next to Shelli, and they were talking about spices, and how they missed tomatoes. Max was finishing off his dinner. He caught my eye.

  “I got a surprise for you.”

  “Yeah?”

  He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, set the bowl on the floor, and said, “Hang on.” He went to the truck and came back with a stack of blue shirts in his hands. He counted off the top four and tossed them to me. “You’re almost official.”

  Night clapped. “Let me see!”

  Everyone else was making a big deal of it except for Ninja. I knew he really wanted to be a deputy. I took one off the top and threw it to him.“Save it for when you turn eighteen, Turtle Boy.”

  He was grinning, and so was everyone else. I had not realized until lately that it didn’t take all that much effort to make someone else happy.

  “Thanks, Sport!” He knew I hated being called Sport as much as he hated being called Turtle.

  “But they’re blank,” Night said. Where are the usual patches? The—the U.S. flag. And the city patch?”

  “Sorry. No patches to be found. We can get someone to make some up, I’m sure.”

  Then Ninja asked, “Why are you going to put the American flag on there? We aren’t Americans anymore.”

  His statement hit like a bomb that exploded in silence. Then everyone tried to talk at once. Old Guy went a little nuts. He was the most vehement and also the one who, from my perspective, said nothing other than clichés.

  I think everyone was stunned because no one could wrap their mind around the idea that America might cease to exist. Or that America wasn’t everywhere anymore, and that it was shrinking every month. Much less that we might no longer even be in America.

  This led to more questions: What is America? Is America only inside the Zone? Is it a government? A religion? Everyone had a view and everyone wanted to voice it. No two people seemed to have the same view either.

  “My God, boy,” Old Guy shouted, “What about the Bill of Rights and the Constitution!”

  Ninja looked at him puzzled. “What’s that? I mean, I’ve heard of them—but what are they?” He looked at me as if I knew.

  I shrugged. “Beats me. I think they were around a long time ago, probably back in Old Guy’s day. I think they got rid of them or something. I know it had something to do with guns.”

  Everybody started chiming in with a different interpretation. I was right about the guns part. Tommy said, “Freedom of speech.” Max added, “Searches. I know it has something to do with searches.” Shelli was trying to tell everyone about old white guys and slaves, which didn’t make any sense to me.

  Then Night stood up, walked to the center of the porch, and began reciting the Constitution of the United States of America. She stood there, her eyes closed, speaking each word slowly and clearly. It was easy for me to see her doing the same thing in front of the class, or on stage at school, not all that many years ago.

  When she finished, she opened her eyes, smiled at us, and said, “I had to learn it for ‘What America Means Day’ in fifth grade.” Then she sat down quickly and, I think, a bit embarrassed.

  I applauded, as did everyone else a second or two later. To no one in particular I said, “That was awesome. What happened to it?”

  No one seemed to have an answer for that.

  We decided to put the flag on the uniform, especially after I reminded everyone that Fed security troops expected to see it. The absence of it could get us relocated—or shot as terrorists.

  Ninja still was not satisfied. “Okay, if we are going to do that, then I think we should have our own flag below it.”

  “Huh?” we all gasped.

  “Ninja,” I said, “we don’t have a flag.”

  “Yes, we do. I designed it.”

  I looked at Night and Max. Night just arched an eyebrow while Max looked amused.

  He told him, “Okay. Let’s see this flag.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Ninja said and took off at a run for the trailer.

  Max asked, “Anyone seen this flag?” No one had. Ninja was back in under two minutes, breathing a little harder than when he had left. He also looked really nervous. In his hands he held a folded green square.

  “Alright, let’s see what you got,” Max told him.

  Ninja looked over at me, and I nodded yes. I was thinking, Kid, I really hope this doesn’t have space ships or dragons.

  It didn’t. It was a green square of cloth with a white square added to the center. Inside the white square was a bird that had been colored in with a black marker.

  “A crow?” Night spoke for almost all of us. I was glad she had. I thought it was a blackbird. “Why?”

  He answered proudly, “Because that is what we are.”

  Max sighed and rubbed his face. “I’m not following you.” “Max, don’t you see? We are a family. Crows are a family. We take care of each other. Crows take care of each other. Crows are smart. They are survivors. So are we. The green is for the world. The white is because we are the good guys.” Then he stood there, his flag held in front of him, but emotionally naked to all of us.

  “Sure. Why not? I like it,” Max said. “Hell, why not!”

  Ninja grinned. We had a new flag.

  Everybody began drifting away after the decision on the flag. I had missed my window of daylight to practice shooting. We said our good nights, and Night and I started toward to the trailer holding hands. Ninja walked with us.

  I was struck suddenly by how much we had all changed—how different we were compared to when we were living in the motel. “Night, have you noticed that people talk more now?”

  Ninja replied before she could. “Duh.”

  She smacked him in the back of the head. He didn’t have a chance to evade it either. The girl was fast when she wanted to be.

  “What was that for?”

  “Because I felt like it. Now shut up.” Then she said something to him in Chinese. It was the first time I had heard her speak Chinese since her parents died. She turned to me and switched back to English. “Yeah, it’s because we are our own entertainment. I spend some time online still, but when was the last time you did?”

  “Damn, I can’t remember.”

  “We don’t listen to the radio. No one here watches TV. Outside of me, this idiot, and Tommy, who does?”

  “Yeah. You got a point.” I thought about it. I wasn’t standing still long enough or in a vehicle often enough to listen to a radio. I sure wasn’t going to walk around with an iPod distracting me. Television? What was on that was worth watching?

  “Hey, Ninj.”

  “What?” He sounded a little surly. Night was laying into him for some reason.

  “Nice flag.”

  That brightened him up. “Thanks, G.”

  “I got one request, though.”

  “What’s that?” he replied somewhat hesitantly.

  “Can it be a raven? They are a lot cooler.”

  He shrugged. “Sure.”

  Night looked at me, grinned, and shook her head. “Yeah. We couldn’t have a bird that’s not cool, could we?”

  “No way. At least not on my shoulder.”

  When w
e walked in the door Ninja went directly to the computer and logged in. We kept going, headed for the bedroom.

  “Hey, Night. Can I talk to you before you kick Ninja off the computer and start checking what’s going on in the world?”

  “Sure. Let me do a few things first and I’ll be in.”

  I unlaced my boots and hung up my gun belt. Night frowned on me sleeping with it on. I was okay with that after I jammed one of my spares between the mattress and the headboard.

  I sat down on the bed. Jeebus. How was I going to do this? I didn’t even have a ring.

  About five minutes later she came in and sat down next to me on the bed.

  Hesitantly, I said, “Night—”

  “Okay. The answer is yes.”

  I almost fell off the bed. “What—? Wow! Really? How did you know?”

  She grinned at me. “I still want to hear you say it.”

  I swallowed hard. “Night, will you marry me?”

  “Yes!”

  About ten minutes later I got out of bed long enough to close the door. By the time I woke up the next day, Ninja had already hoisted our new flag underneath the faded Stars and Stripes that we flew.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I woke up that morning with a smile on my face. Night was already up and in the bathroom. I listened to her singing softly to herself and thought this economic crash stuff wasn’t as bad as everyone was making it out to be.

  “Better hurry up, sleepyhead. I got to go make breakfast. The shower is yours.”

  I got up, showered in lukewarm water, shaved, and got dressed. Then I inspected and strapped on my gun belt, slipped the Navy revolver through the belt, and slid the bayonet in and out of its sheath three times for luck. I grabbed my daypack and filled my water bottle from the tap. When I got to the house Old Guy was sitting on the porch eating a bowl of oatmeal.

  He laughed. “He’s running behind. Just like you.” He thought that was really funny. He was still laughing when I came back out with my oatmeal.

  “Hey, Old Guy.”

  “What, buddy?”