by James Hunt
“Turn here,” Paul yelled.
Jordan nodded, and turned to the right suddenly and without slowing down. Julie gripped the side of the vehicle as the MREs came tumbling near her.
“Hey, watch it,” she yelled to Jordan.
He didn’t respond and the vehicle roared as he drove farther down the road. They were close. Paul took comfort in their familiar surroundings. Maker’s Street, their street, was coming up. The closer they got to the house, the less Paul felt like they were in danger. The idea that they could no longer stay in their house, or their town, for that matter, was ridiculous. Jordan would insist that they leave, but where would they go? Paul then understood the mentality of those who remained in their homes even after a mandated evacuation was put in place. He used to marvel at how someone could be so foolish to ignore an evacuation during a hurricane or major storm. Now he could understand. It’s hard to leave your home when it’s often the safest place out there.
“Take a right at Maker’s Street,” Paul yelled.
Julie gripped the side of the vehicle again, anticipating a possible rollover. This time, however, Jordan slowed down before he turned. Perhaps he wasn’t in such a rush after all. Paul turned to check on Julie. She looked worn and tired, but her eyes showed anticipation. Paul smiled and leaned closer.
“We’re almost home,” he said.
“I know,” she responded while looking out the window.
Jordan had slowed the vehicle to a rolling pace. He had the high beams on to navigate the dark road. There were no functioning streetlights to brighten their path. The long road was aligned with houses all the way to the end of a three-way stop. Paul could see their house approaching.
“It’s the third house on the left,” he said pointing.
Jordan slowed the vehicle more, as the engine rumbled, though he knew they had little time to spare. He planned to give Paul and Julie five minutes to grab their things. Any longer, they could find their own way. He turned and drove up the driveway. Their home was on a hill. The bright beams of the Humvee revealed a large crater through the front of their house. Paul wondered for a moment if they had stopped at the wrong house. He looked above the garage doors and saw their house number. It read, 2456. He looked back to the hole in the house and noticed tire marks leading all the way through the front yard to the street below. Jordan took notice of the damage as well.
“Are you in the middle of some kind of repair work on your home?” he asked.
Paul didn’t answer. He continued to stare at the house in complete shock. He opened the Humvee door and placed his foot onto the driveway. Jordan put the vehicle in park and kept the engine running. Julie sat up from her seat and took notice. The gaping opening into their home was littered with wood, insulation, and ceiling that had fallen into a pile like the aftermath of a bombing. She opened her door, causing Paul to turn around.
“Stay in the car, Julie,” he demanded.
“What happened?” Jordan asked after taking a closer look.
Julie sunk back into her seat, leaving her door open.
“Julie,” Jordan said. “Could you please close your door? Remember the fallout in the air?”
Julie rolled her eyes and pulled the door shut. Paul crept out of the vehicle then realized Samantha’s Tahoe was missing. Again, he wondered if they were at the wrong house.
“Is everything okay?” Jordan asked.
Paul slowly shut the door then walked toward the house. Jordan remained in the vehicle as they watched Paul approach his demolished home, one step at a time. Paul peered into the hole then stepped inside.
“What’s going on?” Julie asked.
Jordan turned slightly to address her.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “Your house doesn't look so good.”
“My mom’s car is missing,” Julie said.
Jordan surveyed the damage again. Tire tracks led from the driveway to the front of the house, then down the front yard and into the street. It was as if someone had left them a blueprint of the crime. Paul jogged back to the Humvee and swung open his door.
“Do you have a flashlight in here?” he asked.
“Check the back,” Jordan said. “Looks like someone stole your car and crashed it through the house.”
“Well it’s not there anymore,” Paul said.
“Guess they managed to get it on the road,” Jordan said.
“Julie, see if there’s a flashlight back there,” Paul said.
Julie felt around and came across a backpack.
“There’s just a bunch of boxes and this backpack,” she said.
“Oh yeah, check the backpack,” Jordan said.
Julie unzipped the bag and felt past some tools, a first aid kit, and what appeared to be a small box of 9mm bullets. At the bottom of the pack she felt a small plastic flashlight.
“Here,” she said, holding it up.
Paul grabbed the flashlight from her small hand and shut the Humvee door.
“Hey!” Jordan yelled out. He opened his door a crack. “Paul, what the hell is going on? I need to get back on the road.”
Paul turned around. “Just give me one minute,” he answered.
Jordan shut his door and waited. “This is bullshit,” he said, forgetting that Julie was right behind him.
“You’re right.”
Her voice startled him. They watched as Paul scanned the inside of the house with his flashlight. He came to a wall and leaned against it in defeat. Then, unexpectedly, he punched and kicked the wall in a fury of anger.
“Your dad is losing it,” Jordan said.
Julie opened the door and exited the Humvee. Jordan yelled to her but she kept moving toward the house. He sat in the Humvee as it rumbled, seriously contemplating whether to leave or not. Julie ran to the house and climbed over the debris into the living room. Paul’s flashlight shined on her.
“I told you to stay in the car,” he said.
“It’s not a car, it’s a Humvee,” she snapped back.
“I don’t know if it’s safe here yet, go back to the Humvee.”
She looked around the house, past the destruction, and noticed that several items were missing aside from furniture.
“Did we get robbed?” Julie asked.
“It appears so,” Paul said walking away.
Suddenly, Paul remembered Jordan. They were entirely at his mercy. They had no car, and Paul wasn’t sure of what remained in the house. With Julie out of the Humvee, Paul realized that nothing was keeping Jordan in the driveway beyond being a nice guy, and he had no idea what kind of guy Jordan was. He ran outside and fled the house with the beam from the flashlight swinging in the air. He was relieved to see the Humvee still parked and idling. He knocked on the driver’s side door. In response, Jordan opened it a crack.
“We were robbed,” Paul said as sweat dripped his forehead. “They took the car, smashed it through the house and took God knows what.”
Jordan shook his head. He knew that the robbery had changed everything. “So now what?” he asked.
“I’ve been thinking--hear me out--just help us get somewhere safe from the fallout, it’s all I ask.”
Jordan thought to himself for a moment then responded. “I’m sure we can work something out, but we need to hit the road. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”
“I understand, but please, give us five minutes to grab what we can from the house. We need clothes, hygiene products, food.”
“None of that matters right now,” Jordan interrupted. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to remain in this town? You’re putting me in danger just standing there.”
“Five minutes, then we’re on the road. You have to work with me here,” Paul pleaded.
They didn’t have much time to argue, so Jordan got to the point.
“If you go over five minutes, I’m gone.”
Paul replied enthusiastically. “Thank you, we’ll be quick,” he said as he turned and ran toward the house.
Ju
lie examined the darkness of their kitchen, the open cabinets, and the bareness of everything. It felt like a shadow of their former home. She heard Paul’s footsteps stampeding upon the wood tile floors.
“Julie,” he called.
“I’m in the kitchen,” she replied.
Paul ran into the kitchen and stopped to see the empty cabinets that once stored food. He moved the flashlight to the pantry. Its door hung open displaying empty shelves. He was in a trance of disbelief, but then quickly snapped out of it. He knelt down in front of Julie and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“We don’t have much time, but we have to go with Jordan. I want you to grab a bag and throw whatever food we have left, plus some clothes and hygiene products.”
“Why can’t we stay here?” Julie asked.
“It’s too dangerous. We don’t know who was here and if they’re coming back.”
Julie's voice started to shake as a tear streamed down her cheek. “But I don’t want to go anywhere else. I’m tired. I want to take a shower. I’m sick of moving.”
“There’s no power here. The town is under evacuation. We’ll only be gone for a little while until everything goes back to normal.” Even as he spoke, Paul wasn’t sure if he believed a word he was saying.
“I’ll stay here and you guys can leave,” Julie said.
“Julie, please do as I say. We’re running out of time,” Paul said with a serious tone.
Julie moved away from him and toward her room. “Fine,” she said. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice.”
Paul swung open the refrigerator, not expecting much, and saw that it had been left alone. Few items remained: a soda bottle, butter, mustard, and a salad from the night before. He wondered why he had made promises to Jordan about food and supplies when he knew they had very little. He was behind on his grocery shopping, now it was coming back to haunt him.
Paul turned from the refrigerator and ran to his room. He grabbed a large black backpack from his closet and moved to his dresser. He stuffed the bag with clothes until it was nearly full. He threw in a small framed picture of him, Samantha and Julie that had been shattered in the break-in. As he zipped up his bag, he heard the shower running outside the room. Paul marched to the bathroom and banged on the door.
“I told you we don’t have time for that!” he said.
“I can take really quick showers,” Julie yelled from inside.
Paul attempted to suppress his anger and frustration.
“One minute,” he yelled. “Starting now!”
Paul opened Julie’s door and scanned her room with his flashlight. Nothing appeared to have been ransacked in the manner that the living room and kitchen had been. Small posters of female pop stars hung on the wall next to a picture of Julie’s soccer team where she was kneeling in the front row. Her bed was unmade, with clothes strewn across. Her white dresser had several drawers open with clothes hanging out. She must have gone through her room like a tornado the moment she walked in. Paul looked at his watch, it was 8:32 P.M. and they had two minutes left. Paul heard the water shut off in the shower.
“Okay, we have to leave now!” he shouted.
He wanted to take a shower of his own, but they were nearly out of time. Paul went into his room to grab his bag then looked around for other things to take. If he thought about it long enough, they would end up never leaving. Paul heard Julie come out of the bathroom.
“You should use it while the water is still hot,” she said from across the hall. Julie had taken a shower and changed in less than five minutes. Paul was amazed; however, he knew there was no way he could do the same. The shower soon became the least of his problems as the MRE settled in. Paul clutched his stomach in pain.
“Julie,” he said, “tell Jordan that I’ll be right out.”
He ran to the bathroom and slammed the door.
“Go!” he yelled from the inside.
Wearing a T-shirt, jeans, sneakers, and a jacket, Julie shuffled to her room, took a look around the darkness and walked out with her backpack. She stopped at the front door and set her pack down as if forgetting something. She marched down the hallway, feeling the walls along the way, and went back to her room. The moonlight from outside shined in through her window and onto her desk. On top of her desk rested a clean notebook she hadn’t written in yet. She grabbed it and fled the room past the embarrassing sounds of Paul in the bathroom.
They had gone over their time two minutes by the time Julie made it out the Humvee.
Jordan felt as if he failed himself. When five minutes had passed, he told himself that he wouldn’t wait longer than ten minutes. “Ten minutes, then I’m out,” he said.
That was his compromise. He felt that to risk so much for two strangers was foolish, but he wasn’t ready to have them on his conscience yet. Julie opened the side door and climbed in the back.
“My dad said he’ll be right out, he’s just having a little trouble.”
“What kind of the trouble?” Jordan asked.
“Bathroom trouble,” Julie answered.
Jordan didn’t say a word.
“Better in there, than in here,” he thought.
Finally, Paul arrived at the Humvee, backpack in hand.
“I’m sorry about that, thanks for waiting,” he said. Paul climbed in the passenger seat as they moved in reverse down the driveway.
“Find anything in there?” Jordan asked.
“Not much,” Paul said. “They cleaned us out pretty good.”
Jordan said no more. He shifted the vehicle into drive and thrust the pedal to the floor.
“You’re going to have to help navigate me out of here,” Jordan said.
“Of course, I’ll tell you exactly where you need to go,” Paul said. He thought for a moment. “Where are we going, exactly?”
“Out of town, for starters, and away from the fallout,” Jordan said.
Paul couldn’t help but doubt Jordan's claims of nuclear destruction. “Where can we go that’s safe?” he asked.
“We head west to Missouri,” Jordan answered.
“What’s in Missouri?”
“I have family out there, a wife and kids.”
Paul’s eyes lit up. “My wife is in Colorado right now. I haven’t heard from her since this afternoon. Maybe we could head out there; it’s not too far from Missouri.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Jordan said.
Paul’s smile dropped. “Why not?” he asked.
“At least not in this vehicle. There’s not enough gas in the world to take this thing to Colorado.”
“Well, I have to get to Colorado, no matter what,” Paul said.
“In time,” Jordan said as they drove ahead into the night.
Chapter Three
Days Gone By
Jessica, I don’t know if you’re still alive. I was just thinking about all the people I know that I don’t know if I’ll ever see again. I know we haven’t talked to each other in a while. Ever since my family moved to that stupid town it seems like my life has gone downhill. I had great friends like you back home. But now that I hear that Philadelphia has been hit with a bomb or something, I don’t know if you guys are okay. Jordan, the guy we’re driving with, said that there is nothing left of the city. Are you guys still alive? I wished I had called you more. You guys were my real friends, not like those bitches in Beech Creek and at Discovery Cove Middle School.
I never wanted to move, but we had to move because my parents needed work after Paul lost his job. We moved into Paul’s father’s house. Then the kicker: they said they wanted a “safer environment” to raise me. WTF? I’m twelve, not two. But now that the city is gone, according to Jordan, I guess my parents were right and I’m alive now because we moved. I really hope this is one big practical joke. Or a bad dream I can wake from. We stopped the other night and slept in this Humvee, and for the first time in like forever I cried. I had to be quiet because Paul and Jordan were right there. I haven’t cried like that si
nce we first moved to Beech Creek. I miss my mom. I miss you. I miss so many people. I really do hope to see you again.
We’ve been on the road for a week now. We’ve driven through Ohio and Indiana. Some things look normal, some don’t. We’re always looking for fuel. I don’t know what we’re doing. I just don’t know. I want to go back home. I want to go back and see you and Ashlee and Meghan. I miss all you guys. I started playing soccer last year. It’s not so bad. Ugh. I just can’t do this. It’s hard to write that things are normal when they aren’t. Everything is different. The sky is different. It’s cold all the time. No place has any power. There are a lot of scary people out there. Jordan says we have to be careful.
He’s looking for his family, and we’re looking for my mom. I would give anything to see her again. He said his family is in Missouri. Why he lived in Pennsylvania, I don’t know, but it might have something to do with some trial separation he told Paul he was going through. That’s so sad, but whatever. Paul wants to go to Colorado to find my mom. I wish we were already there. I hate long road trips. We barely ever stop. Oh, someone stole our car and smashed it through the house and took all our stuff too. That’s why we’re stuck with Jordan, but he’s alright I guess. Our town was evacuated. Maybe your family evacuated before anything happened. If so, I can’t wait to see you again. And you’re mom too, she’s awesome. I just don’t know how much longer I can take this. It’s been days since we have taken showers. It’s so gross. And I’m sick of eating the same crap. Listen to me now, complaining when some people have actually died. I’m just very confused. I hope you and your family are safe. I’ll write to you again soon. I have to go, Paul is talking to me.
“Julie!” Paul said.
Julie tossed down her notebook. “What?” she asked.
“How are you holding up?”
“Good,” she said annoyed.
“What are you writing?” Paul asked.
“Nothing,” Julie said.
Throughout their trip, Paul and Jordan had taken turns at the wheel. With the amount of fuel they continually scavenged for, Jordan felt they needed a new car. But cars, like everything else, had become a hot commodity. Mainly because everyone, it seemed, was on the move. Whether one had a vehicle or whether they stole one, everyone faced the same problem everywhere they went. The simplest necessities--food, water, fuel, and electricity--grew scarce with each day. From Pennsylvania to Ohio, gas stations were running out of fuel with no supply in sight. Paul, Julie, and Jordan weren’t the only ones trying to get to safety. Residents from the east had poured into neighboring states, overburdening resources and adding to the chaos and disorder.