I drive my jeep to meet Shelley. I can’t see being sneaky anymore; there’s no one to be sneaky from. Of course, I arrive early. I’m early for everything, another skill learned in the Marines; hurry up and wait.
The gas station and the attached mini mart are still locked up tight with no sign of break-ins. Just for the heck of it, I try the pumps, it wouldn’t hurt to fill my gas tank. Naturally, they don’t work. I guess I’ll have to siphon gas from other cars when I need it.
At nine sharp, I walk around back, and enter the car wash through a partially raised garage door. “Shelley, you in here?”
“Yeah, over here.” She steps from behind a large scrub bush thing. “Glad you made it.”
Her smile feels genuine and real.
“Yep, I made it. I was looking forward to it.”
In the light, I see everything I couldn’t last night. She’s tiny, at least a full head shorter than me. Deep golden-brown eyes peek out of long brown bangs. She’s wearing a Laker’s baseball cap and a short ponytail sticks out the hole in its back. An adorable band of freckles runs across the bridge of her nose. I smile as I notice that her ears have a slight point on their tops. She reminds me of a pixie. And her mouth is definitely kissable.
“So, you live close by?” I ask with a smile.
“Yeah, I bought a house in this neighborhood a few years ago. It’s nothing much, just a little ranch, but it’s mine.”
“You look awfully young to own a house.”
She rolls her eyes and chuckles, “You’re a clever one. What a sneaky way to find out how old I am.”
I can’t help but grin. “I see I’m not gonna be able to pull anything over on you.”
She raises her eyebrows several times, Charlie Chaplin style. “Nope.” She laughs as she walks over and sits against the wall. With a smirk on her face, she tells me, “Okay, nosey man, I’ll tell you. I just turned thirty. I’m not married or engaged, and I am, or was, a teacher. I taught fifth grade.”
Sliding down the wall, I sit on the ground next to her. “Well, turn around is fair play. I’m twenty-six; I’ll be twenty-seven in two months. I was in the Marines for eight years and just started school a month ago on the GI bill. I wanted to go into the FBI. I was majoring in law enforcement.”
With a big grin on her face she gives me a Marine oorah, then adds, “My father was in the Army.”
I poke her with my elbow and answer with a bit of snide, “Well, I won’t hold that against you.”
She slaps my arm. “Gee, thanks.”
Her face suddenly turns serious and she starts to pick at her nails. “Hank, where is everybody? I’ve done the math. Los Angeles is a big city, even if only one percent of the population is left, there should be a lot more people around.”
“Well, it they’re like me, they didn’t have to venture out for a while. They had enough food and supplies close at hand. And if they’re like you, they’re being sneaky, and we just haven’t seen them.”
She shrugs, “I guess.”
“Actually, I think if there are more people, we should start seeing them soon. People are gonna run out of things and come out of hiding to replenish their supplies.”
She whispers, “I hope there are more people left.” Patting her heart, she adds, “Good ones.”
I nudge her with my shoulder. “Me, too.”
Pointing at her backpack, she tells me, “I’ve been slowly gathering supplies. I’ve been too nervous to drive my noisy car, so I’ve been collecting what I can on foot.”
“I’d like to help if you’ll let me. I think we should team up, share the burdens. Besides, this may sound chauvinistic, but I don’t think it’s safe for a woman to be alone.”
Her face turns pink. “You’re gonna think I’m a sissy.”
“What?” I nudge her shoulder again. “Tell me.”
“I’m scared of marauders finding me and making me into their sex slave.”
I pat her arm. “Things like that really do happen.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Her brown eyes stare at me for a few seconds before she looks down. “I wake up every few hours and double check the house. I keep a nine iron by my bed as a weapon. I don’t think I’ve slept a whole night since everything went to shit.”
Needing to touch her in some way, I put my hand on her arm. “I could help with that. I’m good with security things.”
She blows her bangs out of her eyes. “Maybe I’m crazy, but I’m gonna trust you. I was going to insist on several of these meetings first, but I believe in gut instincts, and I think you’re okay.”
“Good answer.”
“But,” she points at herself to stress her argument, “We’re gonna use my house as a base. I’ve already done a lot of preparations and it would be silly to start over.”
“I agree. Your place it is. Let’s go pick up my stuff, and then get busy.”
“Let’s do it.” She pushes off the wall, stands and brushes dust off the seat of her pants.
“I drove my jeep, it’s out front.” I point out the door.
That gets me a big smile. “Brave man.” She adds a chuckle as she sticks out her hand. “Oh, by the way, my full name is Shelley Browning.”
With a firm handshake, I answer formally, with a fake English accent, “Well, nice to meet you, Ms. Shelley Browning.”
Just as we get to my jeep, the roar of engines, big ones, catch us by surprise. “Fucking A.”
She grabs my arm. “Sounds like race cars.”
“Or hot rods.” I push her down behind the jeep, hidden from the street. “Stay down, let’s see what we have coming at us.” Peeking around the bumper, I spot two cars speeding our way. Unlike my unexpected meeting with Shelley, this situation sets my internal trouble alarm off.
Two cars, a red Porsche and a black Mustang, rush by us using the street like a two-lane racetrack. Each car has paper dealer plates and carry two males; a driver and a passenger pointing a long gun out the window.
I drop down and pull her in close to me. “Stay down, they’re armed.”
Shelley’s voice gets shaky. “Ar…Armed?”
“Yeah, with long guns, not sure if they’re rifles or battle guns; they went by too fast.”
“Battle guns?”
“Yeah, ARs, sniper rifles, military issued, things like that.”
She stutters, “Do, do you think they, they saw us?”
“No. If they did, they would have stopped.”
She raises her head and looks both ways down the street. “Let’s get out of here.”
I double check to make sure we really are clear. “Okay, they’re far enough way, let’s go.”
Jumping up, she climbs in the passenger seat as I slip behind the steering wheel. “Is there a back way through the neighborhood?”
“What street are you on?” She looks both ways down the street again.
“Keswick, middle of the block.”
She fastens her seatbelt and points. “Drive through the gas station and into the back alley.” She directs me through surrounding alleys and side streets and within minutes we’re in front of the house I commandeered.
I turn the jeep off. “We made it.”
Sighing, she whispers, “I know I said I wanted more people but not dangerous ones. I shouldn’t have said anything about gangs and marauders, I think I jinxed us.”
I reach over and squeeze her hand. “No, you didn’t cause this, it’s just what happens when there’s no law enforcement. Cockroaches live through anything and then come out of the woodwork.”
She looks over at me, her eyes big as saucers. “Do you have a gun?”
“Yeah, several but they’re in Michigan.”
With a determined look on her face, she tells me. “Damn, we’re gonna need to get some to level the playing field.”
“Oorah. And lots of ammo.”
Chapter Four
Shelley
Hank jumps out of the jeep. “The front door’s locked. I’ll go open it
.” He takes a running start and scales the ten-foot wall into the yard.
“Boy, he’s in good shape and strong.”
A minute later, the front door opens, and he waves me inside.
I point at the covered windows and give him a thumbs-up. “Smart. Keeps people from seeing inside.”
“And hides my lights at night.”
“I did the same thing at my house.” I tell him proudly. “I’m gonna look around, see if there’s anything we can use.”
He heads down the hall. “Go ahead. I’m gonna pack. It will only take a few minutes.”
I start in the garage where I find an unopened bag of Pool Shock. I can use it to purify water and it has no shelf life, unlike bleach. I also find two empty gas cans, a bag of charcoal and a couple of rolls of duct tape.
Hank sticks his head out the back door. “Find anything?”
“A few things. Let’s check inside.”
Opening the pantry door, he shows me the food he’s collected. There’s mostly cans of tuna, crackers and beef jerky. “Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”
“Hey, not a problem but let’s take it with us.” I tell him as I walk down the hall toward the bedrooms. “Have you checked the closets?”
“I looked for weapons when I arrived. Didn’t find any.”
“Let’s look for other stuff.”
On the top shelf of the master closet I find a cardboard box labeled ‘Solar Charger’. Pulling it down, I read the full description on the side of the box… ‘Strong enough to charge laptops and batteries’.
Excited, I call out “Hank come here, look what I found.” When he runs in the room I hold up the box. “This means I can use my laptop. Sure, there’s still no internet, but I can keep up my journal and we can use the survival articles I’ve got stored.”
He pats the flashlight tucked in his pants. “You know, rechargeable batteries make sense. We wouldn’t need to worry as much about running out.”
“This solar charger is pure gold.” I hug the box to my chest.
He looks at me a bit funny. “You a prepper?”
“Nope, just a wannabee. In college I visited my roommate’s home in Idaho. Her family was heavily invested in preps; they even had an underground shelter. Ever since, I read and collect articles about survival, gardening, bugging in and bugging out.” Embarrassed, I look down at my hands. “The ’94 Northridge quake scared the shit out of me, so I collected up supplies, but just the bare minimum.” I cover my face with my hands and peek at him through my fingers. “When the virus hit, I only had three weeks’ worth of food and water, several good flashlights and a camp stove.”
“Well, you know what to do at least, we just have to do it.”
“I’ve already started.”
After we pack up the jeep, I ask, “That everything?”
Hank nods. “Yep, and if I forgot anything, I can always come back.”
“True enough.”
We take the back way to my house, and luckily, don’t encounter the racing cars again.
“That one’s mine. “I point at the house in the middle of the block. “Park in front.”
My car sits in the driveway covered in dust, and bird poop. Spider webs hang from its under belly. My front yard, once a source of pride, is overgrown and filled with waist-high weeds. I snicker, “I’m going with the abandoned look.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’ve done a pretty good job, but naughty girl, the blankets hanging in the windows are a dead giveaway someone’s inside.”
My face heats up. “Oh shit, you’re right, I should have hung the blankets on the inside and left the curtains showing outside.”
He jumps out of the jeep and reaches for his pack. “Don’t worry, it’s an easy fix.”
I unlock the front door and wave him in.
He frowns as he examines the locks on the door. “No dead bolt? We’ll need to secure this better.”
His pointing out my mistakes first thing gets my dander up. I slam my keys down on the table. “You’re here less than a minute and you’re already spotting problems.”
Hank flashes me a peace sign. “Hey, I’m here to help. Remember?” He quickly changes the subject. “Ah, this is nice. I love the hardwood floors and the open concept. I can see why you bought the place.”
“Yeah, I loved it at first sight.” I point down the hall. “You can have the guest room. It’s got a comfy bed, big closet and its own bathroom.”
“About that, is there a pool around here for water? I can fill buckets and put them in the bathrooms, so we can flush.”
“Yeah, three of them. Once we unload, I’ll walk you around and show you everything, but there’s already full buckets in the bathrooms.”
“Why don’t you let me unload the jeep. I want to start earning my keep.” He drops his pack on the bench next to the door. “Where should I put everything?”
“Just bring it in here for now. We’ll sort it later. I’ll make us some coffee.”
“Coffee?” His eyes bug out and he rubs his hands together. “Real coffee?”
“Yeah, the real stuff, not instant. I have a butane camp stove set up in the garage and a French press.” I growl and act like a zombie. “Because I need coffee every day to stay human.”
His eyes crinkle as he laughs. “Oh good, another caffeine addict.”
“That reminds me, we need to find a supply of small butane canisters for the stove.”
We’ll need to find a camping store for those, or a Walmart.” He says as he follows me to the garage.
“But first on our agenda is a gun store.”
“Amen,” he laughs, “and a clothing store, I’m wearing my last pair of clean underwear.”
His humor has me joining in. “Road trip.”
Chapter Five
Hank
Shelley sets a white carafe down on the counter. Opening the cupboard, she takes down two mugs along with canisters of sugar and creamer. It’s cute how she has to stand on her tiptoes to reach them. “Coffee’s ready.”
“Coffee, with powered creamer and sugar. Wow, I’m a blessed man.”
“We might as well enjoy it while it’s still around.”
I take a sip. “Nice and strong, just the way I like it.”
Her eyes go from happy to sad. “My dad used to say he liked his ‘high octane’; strong enough to put hair on his chest.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Just thinking how glad I am my parents passed away before this virus thing. I don’t think they could handle all this.”
“My parents are already gone, too. I worry about my brother and his wife though. I tried to phone them but never could get through.”
Her voice goes down an octave and she’s on the verge of tears. “I tried to call my students, but the circuits were just too busy. I did get one text through to my best friend. She texted back telling me she and her partner were already sick.” She looks away just as her tears start to fall. “I’m gonna go check on the cats, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I put my arm out and stop her from leaving. “Wait! Cats?”
She clicks her tongue and turns back around. “I found three cats in the houses with the bodies.” Her face is pink as she talks. “They’re now living in Ruth’s house and I take care of them.”
I elbow her. “You’re nothing but a big softie.”
“That’s me, marshmallow girl.”
She sticks her tongue out and makes a face at me. I make one right back then laugh. She quickly joins in the laugh and the air between us clears.
I break the laughter first. “I wonder where all the dogs are?”
“I worry about them, too.” She looks away from me as she speaks. “I think many died locked in the homes with their owners. Some probably got out and are running wild. That scares me.”
“Me too. A feral dog pack can be deadly.”
She bites her lip and pulls on her shirt collar. “Okay I have another confession. I saved a few dogs, too.
”
I can’t help the smirk that appears on my face. “Figures.”
“I found five dogs in the houses I cleared and then several more as I scavenged. I was gonna let them loose but…” Her face turns bright red as she looks down at her feet. “I felt too guilty. I put them in a huge backyard several blocks from here. I feed and water them every day. And play with them. They need human interaction.”
“Marshmallow girl.” I laugh as I poke her in the arm. “You want to know the truth? I’d probably do the same thing. I love dogs. Were any of them big enough to be guard dogs?”
“There’s a German Shepard and a Pitbull Mix but they’re both as sweet as candy.”
“I’ll go with you when you feed them, I want to meet the German Shepard.”
“Good, you can help me clean up the dog poop.”
“Gee, thanks a lot.”
She giggles, and it is so damn cute. “I normally go around dinnertime.” She puts her mug in a bucket full of soapy water. “Okay. Cat feeding time. I’ll be right back.”
I pour a refill as she walks out the front door. I frown, “That’s not good.” For security reasons, she should be able to go from house to house without going out front. I take my coffee out into the yard. Shit, there’s an eight-foot cinder block wall around it. Damn, I don’t want to bust it apart, but we need at least one other regress out of this place. Maybe a ladder?
“Wow,” comes out of my mouth as I look around the yard. Shelley’s been busy. Half the grass has been replaced with raised garden beds; row after row of plants neatly laid out, some with color-coded stringed posts. Pots of tomato plants line the back fence. Large garbage cans sit against one wall. Curious, I open one. It’s full of water. They all are. I guess, destined for the garden.
“She’s done all this herself? Wow.” I say with a whistle.
Next, I check out the garage. There’s a washer and dryer right inside the back door, not that they work, she’s using the tops as a makeshift cooking area. The room is lined with shelves neatly packed with boxes labeled Christmas ornaments, Halloween stuff, family photos, etc. But no food? No drinking water? Maybe she has a pantry?
I hear the key in the front door. “She’s back.”
Starting Over (Starting Over 1 Page 3