by P X Duke
Shock moved through her body and she stiffened, stunned, although not by the weight of the pack on top of her. She stayed where she fell and tried not to move.
She wanted to turn her head towards the window, but she couldn’t. The huge weight of the pack prevented her from getting up. She managed to untangle her arms from the straps. As she did, she pushed the pack away and got up.
She couldn’t force herself to move beyond that.
Silently, she screamed, Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.
Caitrin made a show of preparing herself to pick up the heavy pack. She adjusted the shotgun across her chest. She took time to position herself over the pack. Finally, she kneeled down and shoved her arms through the straps. It was all she could do to stand up. She leaned forward and used her legs to lift the full weight off the ground.
In doing so, she rotated her body to permit her to look in the direction of the window. She wasn’t obvious about it. She pretended to concentrate on the pack. But she managed a quick look.
She almost went down to the ground a second time.
Caitrin knew she couldn’t allow herself to give any sign. Her first instinct after picking up the heavy pack was to flee as fast as she could. She might have, too, if her knees weren’t trembling so bad she could barely walk with the heavy weight.
For a split second, she contemplated dumping the pack and taking off.
Her breathing quickened into a pant. Nervous sweat ran down her back. She didn’t drop the pack and take off as fast as her feet would let her. She made that decision in an instant. That she didn’t was a tribute to her resolve.
She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and walk out of the cul-de-sac and away from the house. What she had seen already burned itself into her brain. She had to keep on telling herself Don’t turn around. Don’t look back.
There’d be plenty of time to do that.
That someone else was left in the city came as a surprise, although it probably shouldn’t have. She’d been naive to think she and Konnor could have been the only ones who chose to hide out and remain behind. During the long walk home, Caitrin considered her options.
A third person would mean an opportunity to come together with her and with Konnor to help keep them all alive. That is, if Konnor didn’t go completely over the deep end. She’d have to take time to assess his condition. Even as she considered doing that, she knew she would have problems with him.
Finally, she admitted to herself what she had been afraid of doing all along. She would have to ditch Konnor, one way or the other.
When, not if, it came to a choice of sharing a place with a madman or one with an unknown, she thought she should be able to make the decision easily. After all, she was a woman. And a woman, these days at least, must be in short supply.
When the time came, Caitrin knew she’d do what she had to do to survive.
Her decision for preservation made, she unlocked the door, glad to be home and anxious to greet Konnor. She had to tell him what she saw.
Caitrin heard the screaming through the door even before she opened it. She changed her mind and tried to set the pack down just as Konnor opened it. He greeted her with a punch to the face that knocked her backwards down the steps. Konnor fell on top of her and kept punching.
She couldn’t get her arms out of the straps. Konnor’s fists rained down on her. With her arms trapped, unable to defend herself, she had to take the beating. Thanks only to Konnor’s extreme condition, he soon exhausted himself and rolled away from her.
This was the last night she would spend in the home she had known for weeks. As comfortable as it was, as much as she knew the neighborhood, as bad as she wanted to remain with Konnor, she knew it was over. Her life was worth more than a few possessions and a completely insane man.
That night she locked herself alone in the bedroom. Konnor pounded on the door, screaming, trying to get in. She forced herself to ignore the crazy man he had become, but still, she couldn’t sleep. When Konnor finally quieted from exhaustion, she lay awake, continuing to evaluate what she had seen earlier in the day.
Who was it? More importantly, was it a man or a woman? If it was a woman, how would she get her attention and draw her out of the house?
She knew what she had to do would be dangerous. She knew too that she had to get as far away from Konnor as she could for her own safety. What she wasn’t so sure of was whether it would be any safer with the person that had been watching her on her walks through the neighborhood.
FIVE
Russell
In the beginning, when the people were still concentrating on meteorites and six-tailed comets and the sun’s reversing poles, the general roundups began. Everyone with a circular vaccination scar got ordered into refugee centers. The story put out was that an epidemic had begun on the South American continent and it was progressing north at an alarming rate.
At least, that’s what the broadcasts repeated.
Russell never heard of a circular scar. He looked it up, and learned that it was a mark left by a scab. Before about 1972 or 1974, everyone had to be inoculated against something called smallpox. The resulting scab would give the recipient of the vaccine a small, circular scar for life along with lifetime immunity to the disease.
Apparently, smallpox had been eradicated from the face of the earth sometime in the 1980s. Apparently, all traces of the vaccine were supposed to be destroyed. And also apparent, judging by the disease’s advance northwards from South America, it hadn’t.
So much for trusting governments to do the right thing.
We’d already had something not quite similar occur just before the meteors. It was called measles, and anyone who hadn’t been vaccinated against it could catch it and die. Many did, for it spread rapidly among the religious freaks and anti-vaxer nutbars who had allowed themselves to be talked out of permitting their children to get any immunization shots at all.
When the deaths began, it seemed to me to be only right. Those who didn’t see the value in modern medicine were designed to die for their supposed sins. Eventually, we all ended up paying our dues, one way or another.
Following the measles epidemic, the government began scouring medical records for the names of people who hadn’t had any immunization injections. By then the black vans had been replaces by city busses painted in dark colors with yellow markings to highlight them.
When that started, something told Russell it was time to move, and he did, a number times. He picked up, packed up and moved out to the ‘burbs. He wasn’t nervous or concerned about it in the slightest. He moved at night on his quiet, battery-powered motorcycle. It took many trips until, finally, he was settled and alone.
Alone, that is, until he saw her again.
I lifted a corner of the curtain to look out. Just as I did, I caught the woman glancing at my house. She must have seen the movement. She was blind if she didn’t.
I panicked and ran to the door to look out of the peephole. I was just in time to see the woman getting up off the ground. She had to have stumbled from the shock of seeing something where only moments before there had been nothing.
I rushed back to the window and pulled the curtain open wide. I pasted grin on my face and waved. The girl halted, mid-step, turned, and ran in the direction from which she had come.
I closed the drapes and returned to the darkened living room. I got a good look, to be sure. She was definitely attractive. That’s not what I noticed first, though. The first was the weapon. A shotgun, with a short barrel. A cut-off for easy handling.
The gun was slung across her chest. The double-barreled breach was open, but the bandolier over her shoulder carried enough shells to make it look as though she belonged to a small band of mercenaries. I’d like to have her on my side, if that was possible.
I tried to put her out of my mind. I had to concentrate on the map in front of me.
The map was my record of everything. It told me where I had gone to scroun
ge for things I needed - mostly canned goods. I color-coded it as a reminder of where I had been, where there was nothing of value left, and where I might want to go for a look-see at what remained.
To keep a step ahead, I marked the urban pockets of farm animals that people in the city had started to collect and feed before the purge. In time I thought I might be able to gather some of them and move them to an empty arena, or maybe a small park where there would be grass. Maybe I’d even get a small farm going for fresh eggs and goat milk - all in good time.
And then thoughts of the woman banished everything else from my mind. Not thinking about her wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought it might. I started to realize the value of having another pair of hands and legs to help accomplish the grunt work.
It wasn’t so much of a struggle as it was routine. I became accustomed to the absence of people and vehicles and the silence that went with it.
When the power shut down, I was prepared. In advance, I had located a generator and enough power cables, plugs, jacks and conduit that I kept stored in the basement. It took a day of dedicated work, but power to the house was restored by the end of it.
Gasoline became my next project. I managed to collect an empty drum and fill it. That made me good for a couple of weeks, but I’d need more over the long term. It was turning into a real hassle to find it, as well.
But time was all I had.
It took another four months to realize that just about every last soul had been shipped off to somewhere. I stopped looking for anyone to ask where they thought that somewhere might be.
There was that one time, though. The woman had caught me looking at her through my curtained window. I let go of the curtain too late. She had to have seen the covering shift back into position. I reversed our positions, and realized that when I had opened the curtain wide, I might as well have been exposing myself in the window as a naked man might. That alone would have scared me to death, too, were I on the opposite side of the window.
A few days passed, and I was put on edge by the plink, plink, plink of stones bouncing off of the window. I ran to the door and looked out.
It was the woman. Instantly, I moved to the window and pulled the curtains wide. I pasted the same silly grin across my face.
She had made it obvious she was looking for me. I had to wonder, though. The first thing I noticed was the action on the shotgun strung across her chest.
It was closed. It was probably loaded, as well.
When she finally had my attention, she turned and walked away again. I was devastated.
That was the last straw.
I convinced myself to go in search of weapons. In a gun shop I found automatic shotguns and all the ammunition I’d conceivably need in boxes. I loaded the bike and motored home to stash a couple of the shotguns and enough ammunition in shot and slugs to supply an army. I even had a couple of bandoliers loaded, just as I had seen the girl wearing.
At a hardware store, I picked up a hacksaw and started to work shortening the barrels to what I thought might be a reasonable length for carrying. I fabricated slings and adjusted them across my chest. Hell, I even practiced positioning the shotgun in front of me in case I ever needed to use it.
I hoped I’d never have to.
Eventually, I forgot about the woman when she stopped tracking through my neighborhood.
It was after one of my more successful scrounging expeditions. I turned into the cul-de-sac and almost dropped the bike when I saw the woman sitting on my front step. It was too late to pretend to ignore her.
I pulled in and leaned the motorcycle on its stand.
—You’ll get a ticket for not wearing a helmet.
She smiled. I tried not to. I wasn’t successful.
—Not likely. Anyone with a government gas ration and any smarts is long gone from this place. That’s why I’m here.
—So then, you’re saying you’re not so smart?
—I’d say I’m about as smart as you are for being somewhere near here, too. I’m Russell.
—Pleased to meet you. I’m Caitrin.
I stuck out my hand. Caitrin formed a fist and instead, bumped my hand. In a split second she pulled her hand away. I didn’t get a chance to make a grab for it, even if I wanted to.
I didn’t try to hide my surprise and the look of disappointment that washed over my face.
—I’m sorry, but I have to be careful. I don’t know you.
—That’s all right. Give me a couple of minutes to haul everything inside and I’ll make us some tea.
Caitrin sat cross-legged on the lawn, well away from the open door. She watched carefully as I unloaded my treasures and hauled them inside.
—What did you manage to collect?
It was my turn to be skeptical.
—Oh, the usual. Just some stuff I think I’ll need.
She grinned.
—Who’s being careful now?
The noise of the diesel engine reverberated off of walls of the empty neighborhood and echoed into the cul-de-sac. By the time I recognized it for what it was, it was almost too late.
I scrambled to push my motorcycle out of sight behind the house and returned to the front. I forgot all about Caitrin. I ran inside and eased the door shut.
The huge truck rounded the corner and stopped in a cloud of black diesel exhaust and noise at the street entrance to the circle of houses.
All of a sudden the location I had chosen because of its isolation had been breached in a most uncomfortable way. Even so, isolated from the outside by curtains covering windows and doors, I still believed that there was no way I would be discovered.
In the darkened room, something tapped me on the shoulder. I gasped and almost jumped out of my skin. In my haste I forgot I had company. I should have known. Where else could Caitrin have gone on such short notice?
—Jesus, woman, I’ve been alone in here too long for that.
—I’m sorry. I just wanted to let you know I was here, too.
Caitrin’s backpack sat on the floor in the living room. Sh eke pt the shotgun in plain view. A huge k-bar hung off of her belt. The handle had been ground down and would probably just fit her smaller hand. Then she wrapped her hand around it, and I knew I was right about that.
I tried to lighten the atmosphere by moivng to the door. I peered out the peep-hole. A single unarmed soldier descended from the truck and consulted a map. He looked right, then left, and back down the empty street he had just traversed. Finally, he climbed back in and drove off in a cloud of black soot.
I waited until I couldn’t hear the truck, then cracked the door to listen to the engine sounds becoming even more faint. I opened the door wide to let in some light. Caitrin took up a chair in a corner of the living room. She could keep a wary eye on me.
—You look like you belong there.
She ignored me.
—It’s going to be dark soon. I’ll fire up the generator and make you some of that tea I promised before we were so rudely interrupted.
She jumped up. I thought she might run past me out the door.
—You’ve got electricity?
—Yes. Running water, too. Whoever owned this place had the presence of mind to put a reservoir in the back yard to collect rainwater. That’s one of the reasons I moved into this place.
—Can I take a shower? I’ve been bathing in swimming pools and I’ve about had enough chlorine to last forever.
—Towels are in the hall closet. Take a chair with you to prop against the door.
—Thanks. I will.
She gathered up everything she owned and took it with her into the bathroom. I didn’t blame her. I would have too, were I in the same position. She must have found a hair dryer, because when the water stopped running I could hear the familiar faint, high-pitched whine from the kitchen.
SIX
Russell and Caitrin
While Caitrin dried her hair in the bathroom, I considered what had happened during the truck’s brief appear
ance. I wanted to run it by her to get another person’s opinion, now that there was another person.
—It’s amazing what electricity, a little fresh water and a hair dryer will do for a woman. I was considering cutting my hair short before this.
Caitrin stopped at the entrance to the living room. The hat was gone and her clean hair shone in the light. She was one good-looking woman. Hell, she didn’t even have the shotgun in her hands.
—Come back and use it any time you like.
—Is that my cue to be leaving? I haven’t had that tea yet.
How could I have forgotten?
—No, not at all. Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.
She followed and watched as I filled the kettle.
—Come on, I want to show you something.
Ever cautious, she let me lead her to the back of the house where I had the generator under it’s sound-proof cover. I showed her how to start it and to verify that the exhaust vented properly outside. I told her about the blackout curtains, and explained why they should be kept closed.
—If I’m not here, that’s all you’ll need to know to get another shower. Just don’t forget to leave anything outside. I wouldn’t want someone showing up and learning about my haven.
—You’re right, you know. It is a haven of sorts. At least, for me it is.
Her gaze intensified. Why was this woman looking at me like this? Was she sizing me up? If so, for what? I figured I’d need to be careful with this one.
In the kitchen I poured hot water into two mugs.
—It should be ready in a couple. In the meantime, there are some things we need to talk about.
I tried to include the woman as best I could. I valued her opinions. After all, she’d been on her own long enough to get a pretty good idea of what had been going on, too.
—Did you notice anything unusual about that truck? Anything that stood out from previous trucks and their contents?