A. R. Shaw's Apocalyptic Sampler: Stories of hope when humanity is at its worst

by A. R. Shaw

  She’d had, wait…how many, six packets, nine? She didn’t know. Oh…it dawned on her; she remembered tearing off two packets and pouring them into one bottle. She’d know how many she actually had if she knew where her pants were. “Shit.” She put her hand over her face, rubbed at the grit still in the creases of her eyes. That was Matthew’s voice out there in the bedroom, at least. Or it better be. She washed her hands, wet a towel and scrubbed her face until it burned. She needed actual water now. Taking a few handfuls from the sink, she sipped but it tasted alkaline. She wiped her hands dry on the rough hotel hand towel. Well, if they’d had sex…she’d missed it. Damn. What a thing to miss. Surely he wouldn’t do that…not Matthew.

  She opened the door. “Water?”

  “On…the dresser.”

  Yeah, it was him and his reassuring voice.

  Even in the dark, she saw the halo effect through the ribbed liquid bottle nearby, and she also found her pants draped over the arm of a chair. Slipping her hand in the cargo pocket, she grabbed two; without a sound she tore the lids and poured the crystals in. Turning the bottle up and down a few times, she took two long pulls. Taking the few steps back to the bed, she put the drink down on the nightstand and stared at Matthew on the other side. He had no shirt on and, she had the sneaky suspicion, nothing else on below the sheets. The asshole smiled up at her as his eyes roamed her length. He lifted the covers for her to slip inside.

  And she did.

  36

  Kim

  There was never going to be an element of surprise. That was something she’d known for quite a while. She was a take-the devil–by-the-pronghorns sort of girl anyway. Instead, she’d make the situation work to her advantage. Hitting Sammy the Snitch up first thing was her smartest move yet. No doubt…he ran right to him. Told him she was here. Now she’d confront Paul. They’d all come from the same neighborhood. They spoke the same language. Only…he had a tendency to forget where he came from. Being born with brains wasn’t always a benefit.

  It wasn’t going to happen this time. She’d remind him and tell him upfront what he owed her, or she’d take the one thing he couldn’t own. She’d held him by the memory of what he once was, just a cocky little shit of a kid like the rest of them. Too smart for his own good though. He should have listened to her then. Ain’t no one special. Especially not any of them. But instead he had to go on and do things his own way. She barely made it out alive after he realized the extent of their crimes. It was just a job. There was nothing different about this one from all the ones they’d done before. Why couldn’t he understand that? But he took it personally. Now she was going to make sure he understood the cost.

  They were once friends. Hell, she was his babysitter at one time, way back when they were all kids from the same hood. All of them. She, Sammy and Paul. They grew up on the west side of Chicago. They watched out for each other. She protected Paul and Sammy. She had her boys’ backs. Then, once Paul came up with one scheme after another…they made their way eventually to the not so murderous side of Chicago.

  And Sammy…he was the one that ratted her out. It was no wonder; even when they were kids, Sammy idolized Paul. She just never realized he would betray her, the mother of his children, the way he did to prove his allegiance to Paul. But he did. She didn’t dare take it out on Sammy though…her kids needed him.

  Things were changing. Kim felt as if she finally came to get what belonged to her, and pushing Paul against a wall worked in her favor. He had it coming. He wasn’t going to get away with humiliating her the way he did. Not now, not ever again.

  Sammy, for all he was worth, could take the kids for a while. It was his turn anyway. And that way, Sammy too was out of the way for a while, instead of following Paul around like he was attached to his ass. Paul would regret ever having tried to kill her. That money was hers. It belonged to her. She was the one who risked her life, her kid’s lives…she would take it back. Then, she didn’t care what happened…to any of them. It was time she had a new life. One of her own making, and the money she earned from their last heist together was going to pave that golden road. Never again would she let anyone—not Paul, Sammy or her brats, for that matter—cause her to live a life of poverty again. She’d sacrificed enough of her life for the lot of them.

  When she approached the warehouse entrance, she fingered the leather purse strap over her shoulder and then saw a familiar form leaned against the doorframe. She was a waif of a thing, tall and lean, and had the looks every woman wanted. Everyone’s first impression…what is she doing here? That’s until she opened her mouth. Gorgeous but dumb as a tack. At least she had a good heart and she answered the phones well enough for Paul and did just about anything he wanted in between.

  “Hello, Felicia.”

  She turned after gazing at the fires in the distance and talked to her as if she’d never left.

  “Oh hi, Kim. Isn’t it something? Even Pizza Uno’s gone. End of an era.”

  “Yeah…you should go home, honey. Go see your mom for a few days or something.”

  “Oh, Momma died last year, didn’t you know?”

  “No, I didn’t know that. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear about it. Get out of town then. You have asthma, right? This smoke’s not good for you.”

  “I don’t think he would like it if I just left all of a sudden. Why are you here, anyway? I don’t think he’s expecting you.”

  “I’m just visiting. Letting Sammy see the kids for a while. Is he up there in his office?”

  She took a step back as another ambulance fled from the fires down the street. Why they blared their sirens now made no sense to her. Everyone already knew there was an emergency…that was why she came when she did. One grand opportunity. No one would notice what she was about to do, nor would they care either way. One less drug lord—that’s all he really was…legal or not, the form it came in didn’t matter.

  37

  Dane

  She’d been so certain. Certain she’d never do this again. But she awakened a second time in the last twelve hours and this time, her body was entangled with Matthew’s like a pair of warm puppies. The throbbing in her head, a familiar friend by now, took on a new hammering cadence, but then the memories rushed in again. The dread. The new ones, the old ones. Her soul sank just like every morning since, only now it was Tuck too, and the thing she did, the pushing, that added to that drowning pain.

  By the droning sound of his snores, Matthew still slept hard. Couldn’t he hear the pounding in her head too? Though if she moved a cat’s whisker…he’d waken. She was sure of it. The problem was…she hated being touched and he was absolutely touching her…all over. Having sex was one thing…this was something else.

  She pushed his heavy, lanky arm off her bare waist and shoved away from him all at once.

  “What?” he complained.

  She didn’t say anything as she scooted off to the edge of the bed.

  “Good morning to you, too.”

  She shot him a glare as she looked for her t-shirt.

  “Dane.” Both arms reached for her. “Hey…hey. Come here.”

  “Ah, no. What happened here…stays here.”

  He leaned back into his pillow and raised both arms to the ceiling in a long stretch. “No, you’re mistaken…that’s only in Vegas.”

  The jumbled gray lump on the floor looked vaguely familiar. She snatched it up and surveyed the shape, knowing he’d get one last look at her bare ass as she stood up and pulled the shirt over her head, but that’s all he’d get. Ever.

  After locking the bathroom door, Dane turned on the shower to its near-hottest setting. Once the steam began to fill the small space, she checked the temperature to less than scalding and then enveloped herself all at once in the spray. She welcomed the sting. The water turned from a charcoal gray to clear after she scrubbed her fingers through the surface of her itchy scalp. She squeezed all the shampoo out of the tiny hotel bottle and didn’t feel any guilt for not leaving even a single
drop for Matthew. He was probably one of those all over soap kind of guys anyway. He always smelled like soap from a distance and even though he was still dirty from last night, she still smelled his cleanliness, or perhaps that was just Matthew’s scent. He was good. He was good at a lot of things, if she remembered the after-hours activities. That was between the soberness, she recalled. Or was that…between the inebriations? She’d prefer to call it…the escapes. The escapes from constant flashes from her past. A past she played a pivotal part in. If only she’d listened then to her father’s words, he might still be alive. She would have been home that night at least. Just like Tuck, his body burned as he lay on a floor. She realized both men had given their lives for her in the end. One man made her leave so that she could save herself. The other shoved away from her so that she could save herself. Still, in the end, she didn’t know if it was the fire that killed either man or the injuries they sustained.

  Reflecting was too much. Dane felt her knees weakening at the thought of either man burning to bits, screaming in agony while the flames took them. She braced herself on the side of the white shower wall. Still, the black soot seeped out of her pores in gray rivers, trailing down to the drain below. In a ragged cry, her throat burned and choked.

  And just like that…the water turned ice cold.

  38

  Kim

  The fires downtown ought to have sucked the life out of all of them by now. There was no attempt to evacuate. Cleansing the gene pool. That’s what she called it. Those like Felicia…they didn’t have a brain rattling around in there…only nuggets the size of walnuts, come to think of it. Only…what did that say about her? She’d actually brought her kids here too. But she had a reason and the fire aided in the mission.

  She left Felicia standing there gazing out, her mouth hung slack, at the golden horizon, as she headed up the dark, narrow staircase leading up to the cub’s den above the warehouse. He could have more. Why didn’t he buy one of those state-of-the-art shindigs near the airport? He was doing it all wrong…see, only walnuts. Or perhaps his less than spectacular arrangement here kept his business on the down low. That was probably it. He didn’t want unnecessary attention. And he was right. This was a legit business on paper but the way he came about it may have caused many investor types, without the walnuts and full brains and neckties, to steer clear of Paul. She had something to do with that less-than-stellar reputation, and she hoped there was a sliver named Kim in his heel every damn day of his miserable life.

  There was nothing he could do about her. That took her too much time sitting in Canton to realize. To expose Kim, he’d have to admit his own wrongdoings. And he certainly did…some wrongdoing.

  The door creaked open as her hand pushed against the corroded hinges.

  He stood with his back to her, his hands clasped behind him. At least he wasn’t holding a weapon that she could see. He stared down at the warehouse below through an observation window.

  “Kim. What do you want this time?” His voice sounded as if hadn’t slept in days.

  “Aren’t you going to even look at me? I thought your momma and I taught you better.”

  “Don’t ever mention my mother’s name!”

  She didn’t flinch. “You’ve had some time to think things over since our last visit. You know what I want, darling.”

  He turned then, his glance menacing. He’d lost weight. A lot of weight.

  “You’re not getting anything from me. Nothing. I want you to leave. Never return if you know what’s good for you.”

  She laughed.

  39

  Matthew

  “Getting all pissy won’t work, Samantha.” That was the last thing he’d said to his dead girlfriend before he left for the annual smokejumper’s training in the Boise National Forest of Idaho. It was his first invite and if he actually passed the class, which was unlikely, he’d go for the coveted position few rarely achieved.

  She did nothing but try to hold him back from the first day they’d met and he’d told her of his dreams. Whines of That’s such a dangerous job; my dad can get you in construction or, his least favorite, if you loved me…you’d stop acting like a cowboy and do something serious...

  Matthew always found himself shaking his head and muttering the words for the acronym WTF? They were crazy in love not long after they’d met; those first few months were magical. He could barely wait to breathe her in again once they’d parted for any length of time. She’d always brighten before his eyes with this electric smile when they met up at the end of the day, but as time wore on, something changed. He couldn’t really explain what it was at first, only that he was beginning to resent her. He’d never felt this way about someone before. Never thought it possible either. He’d chased her and claimed her as his own and then, after about six months, things seemed to turn for them. And not in a good way.

  It turned out her rich daddy certainly could get him a job in construction. A good, well-paying job with insurance and benefits and without all the life-ending risk-taking. He’d sat him down and told him so, even offered him a cigar. Said it was the ‘responsible’ thing to do if he intended to start a family with his little girl. It wasn’t hard to see where this was all going to end up. Sans the girlfriend, a few silent months later, he packed his gear and left her standing in the doorway of the apartment they’d shared for over a year.

  It was early May, and he remembered looking at her in the rearview mirror of his truck as he left. The image tore at his heart, but he had to do this. She’d never understand. She had her arms crossed over her chest, leaning against the doorjamb with a scowl on her face. Those last details were etched in his mind forever now. She’d pulled her shoulder length, honey-colored hair up, though it tumbled down all over in lazy waves. She wore salmon pink cutoffs and had one tan leg hiked up on the other with her tanned bare foot bracing against her inner thigh. She had on one of those blue and white button-up shirts with the sleeves rolled up halfway and a white ribbed tank top on underneath. A pretty gold chain rounded her slender neck and draped across her collarbones in a wave, and he caught gleams of the metal in the soft sunlight that morning.

  Her beauty stung his heart the first time he’d laid eyes on her. Things started out perfect. Insanely perfect. She was beautiful in a delicate sort of way. Matthew was a big man and when she’d first allowed him to touch her…he was scared he might accidentally break her. Down the road, he’d learned Samantha had a way of getting what she wanted. Though she was kind, and he did truly love her, he found himself more and more resenting her for maligning his lifelong dreams of becoming a smokejumper. Their lives pulled them apart in the end.

  The world was going to hell, mostly due to their own nonsense, but Matthew found meaning in fighting the good fight. The one that mattered. Mother Nature was a formidable enemy when she wanted to be. War had no upper hand to the utter destruction Mother Nature doled out from the heavens to the seas, or the winds to the earth. No man stood a chance alone against her.

  Matthew’s father once told him, An honorable man must pick his battles. And he chose her. The rest of the battles were man-caused. They weren’t worth his honor.

  Samantha never understood this. She was brought up to value things differently, like master’s degrees, sports cars and nice houses, or the next pretty dress.

  That was never a battle he was going to wage, and in the end, he decided she was better off with someone who could provide those things for her. The things she valued. A different kind of man than Matthew would ever be, because he knew they’d both wake up someday down the road and wish they weren’t hugging opposite sides of the same tired bed anymore, and he didn’t want that for this delicate, sweet girl or for himself in years to come. He wasn’t good enough for her in the way he needed to be, and she’d finally convinced him of that, though she’d never say those words.

  Except that his heart shredded as he took one last look in his rear-view mirror, where he’d last seen her sulking on that spring morn
ing.

  Something he never fathomed, though, happened later that night. It wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s why he’d left her…to make things right in her life. Right after he’d arrived at camp, her brother called saying she’d been hit in an accident. “Come quick,” Bill said, but even in those two words his voice had cracked. “They say…she’s not going to make it.”

  There wasn’t a question then. Without thought, he forfeited his chances at smokejumper qualifications that year…he grabbed his gear, without a moment’s hesitation, and left that night. But he never made it in time to say his goodbyes to Samantha. She’d died somewhere along his rush to get there as he raced against beaming headlights in the night. He knew she would. But he didn’t feel the exact moment, the moment of her death, like he always thought he would. And that bothered him still. Perhaps her spirit even still held a grudge.

  That sweet girl that smarted off to him as he walked over the threshold that morning died in the ICU that night. All because he’d left her. The story he’d heard later was that her girlfriend wanted to take her out and cheer her up. One of those breakup-lady’s-night-out sorts of things.

  Carmen was her name. Samantha’s girlfriend drove a fast car and blew through a red light on their way through town to the next nightclub with the radio blaring. A mother of three, coming home off her double shift at the hospital, barreled right into the passenger side, critically injuring Samantha and killing the nurse instantly. There wasn’t a scratch on Carmen.