by Sean Patten
“Sorry,” he said when we finally reached the bottom of the office next to the parking garage. “Don’t really move around like this.”
I could tell.
I glanced over my shoulder at his all-white outfit, wincing at how easy it’d be to spot him in that thing. Keeping a low profile was a major concern right now, and the last thing I wanted to do was stick out.
Then a thought occurred to me.
“You’re a nurse, right?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Have been for ten years now.”
“So, you’d be able to treat something like a glass wound, right?”
“Depends on how bad it is, I suppose,” he said. “What’re we talking about?”
“My brother,” I said. “He cut his leg on a piece of glass. Missed anything vital, but he was bleeding bad. I cleaned it up with some vodka and bandaged it as best I could, but he needs some actual help.”
“Big thing to worry about is infection,” he said. “Some vodka ought to take care of that for a little while. But you need to actually seal the wound and let it heal.”
He glanced down at my first aid kit.
“You manage to get some antibiotics while you were there?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “And some painkillers.”
“Ah, nice,” he said with a smile. “Between that and what you got in the kit there you should have everything you need. That is, if he hasn’t—”
He stopped himself, realizing what he was about to say.
“Sorry,” he said. “How was he doing when you left him?”
“He was conscious,” I said. “But in some pain. Needs food, too.”
Carlos looked focused, as if he was considering something.
“Okay,” he said. “I got a deal for you. Tell me what you think.”
“Shoot,” I said as we made our way through the next office park.
“Like I said, I got people back around there I need to get to. But I don’t want to go it alone. So, if you come with me I’ll take a look at your brother’s cut. I should be able to get him patched up, no problem.”
“Perfect,” I said. “I’d really appreciate it.”
“Not a problem,” he said. “Got a feeling that people are gonna need to be looking out for one another, you know? If people stop helping each other, shit’s gonna get worse than it needs to be.”
“Can’t argue with that,” I said. “And thanks—I mean it.”
“Just make sure you hold onto that stuff,” he said. “Only so much I can do with just these hands.”
“Got it,” I said.
He was right—I couldn’t imagine anything worse than making this whole trip just to lose what I’d found. Steve was still alone, waiting, counting on me.
We made our way through the next office park, Carlos keeping up now that he’d had a chance to catch his breath.
“Shit,” he said, looking around. “Can’t believe they let the power go off like this.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?”
Carlos gestured to the scene around us.
“The power,” he said. “I knew this was gonna happen one of these days. I read somewhere once that tons of the power infrastructure is decades old and practically falling apart. Guess it was a matter of time before something like this happened.”
It dawned on me what he was saying—he had no idea the extent of the damage.
“Carlos,” I said. “What did people at your work think happened?”
“Shit,” he said, shrugging. “Everyone had their theories, you know? Some people thought it was terrorists, other people were thinking it was the Russians. But I was like, that’s so paranoid—if anything it’s just shit falling apart.”
I had flashbacks to the airport, where everyone had their own idea of why the power was out. It was baffling to me that so many people had been oblivious to the disaster right at their doorstep.
“Well, I’ve got some bad news, buddy,” I said. “And then I’ve got some more bad news on top of that.”
“Huh?” he asked. “What kind of bad news?”
“First is that you’re wrong—the power’s not off just because the infrastructure failed.”
“Oh, no shit?”
“Yep,” I said. “And the other bad news is that it’s not coming back on.”
Carlos stopped in his tracks, cocking his head to the side and looking at me as if I’d just told him I was an alien from beyond the solar system.
“What?” he asked. “What do you mean, it’s not coming back on?”
“Keep moving,” I said.
He complied, forming up to my side, an expression of total shock still painted on his face.
“You didn’t hear about the solar flare?” I asked. I knew I wasn’t using the correct terminology, but I didn’t want to make matters any more confusing. The man had enough on his plate right now.
“Huh?” he said. “Oh, you mean that thing they’d been talking about on the news? I thought that was just some NASA stuff.”
“No,” I said. “That’s what happened. The sun let out a burst of electromagnetic radiation that hit Earth, frying all the electronics on the planet.”
“What?” he asked. “Like, over the entire planet? How do you know?”
“Think about it,” I said, recalling the conversation I’d had with Steve. “If the power was just out in Vegas or just Nevada or just the western part of the country, you’d think the government would be getting in here as fast as possible to fix everything, right?”
“Damn,” he said. “You’re right. And it’s been almost a day and they haven’t shown up.”
“There’s no way to know exactly what’s going on,” I said. “But we need to start preparing for the worst.”
“That’s…that’s wild, man,” Carlos said. “You mean when the power went out last night the entire planet basically went back into the Stone Age in a second?”
“Well, we’ve still got tools and weapons and all that,” I said. “Think of it more like another Dark Age.”
His eyes lit up.
“Yeah, you’re right! Literally—another Dark Age!”
He smiled, seemingly pleased with his observation. But the smile didn’t last—stress returned to his features when he remembered what I’d been telling him.
“Then that means I need to get to my people now,” he said. “No time to waste. Not a chance I’m letting them deal with all this without me.”
“Who you got over there?” I asked.
“My parents,” he said. “And they’re elderly. Like, really elderly. And they’ve probably been spending all day in their house in the heat, wondering where I am, and…”
I could tell he was getting upset, and I didn’t blame him one bit. I considered how people the world over were dealing with the same situation, being stranded from their loved ones and coming to grips with the fact that they couldn’t simply send a text and find out how they were.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I made the trip over from near the airport just fine—we can get back there just fine, too.”
Carlos nodded, my confidence appearing to make him feel a little better. But it wasn’t entirely realistic confidence—a big part the reason I’d be able to make it across town without incident had been Hopkins’ help and his guidance through the sewers.
Hopkins. Where was he now?
“You okay over there?” Carlos asked.
“Just thinking,” I said. “I got here through the sewers, and—”
“Whoa,” said Carlos, stopping and holding up his palms. “Like crawling through the tunnels and stuff?”
“Yeah,” I said, scanning through my mental map and trying to figure out where I’d come out of the sewer drain. “Had some help getting through.”
“Help?” asked Carlos. “From what? From who?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I said I word I realized how insane the whole thing sounded. After all, I’d gotten
knocked out by some thugs, dragged underground by a hobo, and nursed back to health in his subterranean lair. It only then dawned on me how crazy it all was.
“It’s a long story,” I said. “But the point is that we might be able to go back the way I got here.”
“You’re telling me you want to back through the sewers? Man, I was wondering why you smelled so…off.”
I said nothing, instead trying to focus on the path that I’d taken to get from the sewer drain to the office park area, cursing myself for not committing it to memory.
“Come on,” I said. “This way.”
I started off before waiting for Carlos to offer his thoughts on the matter. Using the position of the buildings as landmarks, I made my way towards the general area where I’d come out. Once there, I retraced my steps, the two of us soon arriving at the small drainage pool.
“Man, you’re gonna have a hard time talking me into going through the sewers. Bad shit down there—and I mean that for real.”
I didn’t respond, not wanting to get distracted as I continued alongside the ditch and kept my eyes peeled for the pipe.
Finally, I spotted it up ahead. Never in my life did I think I’d be so happy to see a sewer.
“Here it is,” I said when we arrived. “We can head down the pipe and cut across to the other side of town, bypass all the crowds. Follow me.”
I crouched down, preparing to drop into the drainage ditch and head into the pipe. But right as I was about to do it, Carlos spoke up.
“Uh, I don’t know about this, buddy.”
“It’s fine,” I said, a trace of irritation to my voice. “Safer than the alternative.”
“No,” he said. “It’s not a matter of me not wanting to do it. I mean, I don’t. But look.” He pointed to the pipe, then to his belly. “I think I might’ve been able to fit in that thing when I was your age, J. Now, not so much.”
I glanced at the pipe and then back at him, comparing the sizes.
He was right. Between his belly and his overall size, there was no way Carlos was going to have an easy time getting through the pipe, if he was even able to fit into it to begin with.
He laughed.
“Maybe I can do a low-carb diet, you know? Drop a few pounds then give it a try.”
I ignored his joke, trying to figure out our next step.
“So the pipe’s out,” I said.
“Sorry, bud,” he said. “Don’t mean to be such a fat-ass.”
“No,” I said. “It’s probably for the best. I had some help getting through the sewers and there’s no guarantee I’d know how to find our way through again.”
“Then what’s the plan?”
I stood up, turning my attention back to the city. The sun had dipped lower towards the horizon, the sky already a light shade of purple directly above us, the first stars beginning to twinkle.
Being stuck outside in the middle of this insanity was the last thing I wanted. However out of control things had been last night, it was almost certain to be worse that evening.
But we had no other choice.
“There,” I said, pointing to the city off in the distance. “We cut through. And we need to move. Now.”
Chapter 17
We continued on, making our way towards the city through the east, sticking to the areas just off the main roads as not to attract attention. I stayed silent, Carlos following close behind.
“Shit,” he panted. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had to move like this.”
“Get used to it,” I said. “None of us are going to be doing much lounging around from here on out.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “But…what about the old people? Like my parents? How are they gonna survive when the shit hits the fan?”
He was right about the shit being yet to hit the fan. It’d been less than a day since the power went out, and what remained of civilization was still in a state of collective shock. Sure, there were looters and gangs out causing trouble, but it was no doubt nothing compared to how bad things were going to get.
Before too long the grocery stores would be picked clean, and the people holed up in their suburban homes and downtown apartments would be going through their last stores of supplies. The water system would start to break down, and everyone would begin trying to figure out how they were going to get through the next day. It wouldn’t be pretty.
Here and now. Here and now.
“Seriously, man,” Carlos said. “What’re they gonna do?”
“Best thing for you to do is what you’ve got in mind,” I said. “Get to them, help them best you can. I’ve got a feeling the older generation is going to have the hardest time adapting.”
It was about the nicest, softest way I could say what I really felt, which is that the elderly would likely be the first to die. Between their medical needs and their general frailty, the aged were the ones most dependent on the comforts of modern civilization.
Back in the olden days, before all the technology that allowed people to live so spread out from one another, families stuck together, likely living no more than a few miles from each other, if that. But now, with parents living in one city and their kids in another, they wouldn’t have anyone to count on to keep them safe.
I thought about the older couple whose house I’d gone into earlier in the day. Sure, I might’ve done the right thing by not robbing them blind, but it was only a matter of time before others, people with a…less developed sense of morality, would find them and see them for the easy targets they were.
“My mom has cancer,” Carlos said. “I mean, had cancer.” He tapped his chest. “Smoked two packs a day until she had to have part of one of her lungs removed. Now she’s on breathing assistance.”
I winced, knowing that this made it all but certain she wasn’t going to last very long. Carlos, having nurse training, had to understand the reality of the situation. I wondered how much denial he was operating on.
“That’s too bad,” I said. “All the more reason to get to her.”
“No kidding,” he said.
The silence returned, and I was a little relieved for it. I needed Carlos on my side and couldn’t be a total prick to him, but we also needed to move without anyone noticing us. After all, anyone who had a realistic understanding of the situation would recognize the medical kit in my hand as worth its weight in gold.
I stopped, trying to see if I could fit it into my backpack. But it was already crammed full of medications. Last thing I needed was some junkies like they one I’d seen earlier spotting me walking around with a bottle of oxycodone in my backpack. A junk-sick addict would no doubt kill for it at this point.
After a time, the towers of the Strip appeared in the distance. We were close. All we had to do was make it into the city and then through. Easier said than done, sure, but at least the hard part—finding the supplies—was over. Now it was just a matter of getting from A to B.
“Shit,” said Carlos as we drew closer to the city. “Still looks beautiful, even in the dark.”
“Don’t know if I’d go that far,” I said. “But it’s impressive.”
A conflicted look formed on Carlos’s face for a moment, as if he was debating whether or not to tell me something.
“What’d you do before all this, Justin?” he asked.
I winced internally. It was the last thing I wanted to talk about.
“Engineer,” I said. “Mechanical.”
“Damn!” he said. “So you could build, like, whatever you want!”
“Not exactly,” I said.
“Me, I was a nurse. But you already knew that,” he said, laughing.
“Sure did,” I said, wondering where he was going with this.
“But I was something else, too.”
Relief hit me as I realized he’d only asked about me to be polite in anticipation of the subject he really wanted to talk about—himself. I was happy to let him go on.
“What’s that?” I asked.
>
“Gambler,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” I asked. “Like a professional?”
“Don’t know if I’d go that far,” he said with a smile. “But I made a little money here and there.”
“That’s…good,” I said, not sure what else to say.
“But, uh, not recently.”
“That right?”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “Had what you might call a streak of bad luck. Got myself into a little bit of a hole.”
“What kind of a hole?” I asked. “How deep?”
“Um, really deep,” he said. “Couple hundred deep.”
“A couple hundred?” I asked, my eyes still fixed ahead. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”
“No,” he said. “I’m talking a couple hundred thousand.”
I was taken aback.
“You serious?” I asked. “You got yourself two-hundred-thousand dollars into debt? How?”
“You know how it goes,” he said, a tinge of red appearing on his dark olive skin. “First you’re up, then really up, then really, really up. So high up you think there’s nowhere to go but even higher. Then you hit your first bad spot and think it’s fine, you’ll win again. But then you don’t. Then you lose again, and then again. And before you know it you’re chasing after good money with bad. Then—”
He hit his hand with his fist.
“Before you know it you’re in deep. And of course the gangster-types are all too happy to lend you some money at a premium. Then you’re fucked with a capital ‘F’.”
“Sounds familiar,” I said.
Carlos’s eyebrows rose.
“Then you’re a gambler, too?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I never was. My dad was, though.”
I hoped he didn’t press the issue, because I didn’t want to get into it. Without thinking, I reached back and pressed onto the outline of Dad’s medal in my back pocket, reassured to find that it was still there.
“He in town?” he said. “Maybe I’ve been around the same table as him before.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But he’s dead now.”
“Damn, sorry to hear that,” he said.
He didn’t appear to want to linger on the subject.
“But here’s what I’m thinking,” Carlos said. “All those mob guys, the ones I’m in the hole with, they don’t use those little black books anyone to keep track of debts, right?”