Oh shit.
She did not have a key to the cabin. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that – but even if she had, there was nothing she could have done and she would’ve come here anyway, so she tried to think.
I can break a window. That’s my only option.
She carefully deposited Liz on the bench that everyone sat on to remove their snow boots before coming inside. She walked around the cabin looking for the best window to break. She circled around and returned to the porch from the opposite side of the cabin and realized that the best window was the one right there in front of the porch.
Once again she mentally chastised herself for being stupid, and then she forgave herself again. How would she know which was the best window for breaking in to her parent’s cabin? She had never viewed the windows with that question in mind before. Okay, now she needed to move Liz again.
She put her daughter back in the car-seat, started the engine and left it running to keep the car warm. She found some large stones and brought two of them to the window, and feeling like a vandal, she threw one at the big pane of glass, wincing as it shattered and sounded like the loudest thing she’d ever heard.
She looked around, expecting people to come out of nearby cabins to see what was going on, but no one did. Most of them were used as vacation getaways and were empty in the winter unless the owners came to ski.
Tori had made a jagged opening at the bottom left side of the big picture window that was nowhere near large enough for a person to fit through. She threw the second stone, aiming higher and to the right this time.
More of the glass broke and fell mostly inside the house. Now she had two holes in the pane and decided she needed to break out an opening manually. The stones had done part of the job but now she needed a stick. A short while later she had an opening she felt she could safely carry Liz through, so she returned to the car to get her and found the car and the car-seat empty.
Eleven
Carl was dreaming that he was in a bar fight, surrounded by angry women. They threw bottles of whiskey and beer at him, but none of them struck him - his reflexes were too fast. But they were moving in closer. He was going to have to do something more than just duck and swerve to defend himself.
He picked up a pool cue from the table beside him and swung it left and right, testing it and warning the women off. They continued to creep toward him. He swung at the closest woman and felt the reverberation at the base of the cue when the other end connected with her head. She went down, but the others kept coming, although a little slower now.
Carl was ready for them. In fact, he was eager. It felt good taking one of them out and he looked forward to dropping the rest. He grabbed another cue from the table on his left, turned it so that it was vertical and then let it slide through his palm until all but eight inches had passed through, then he gripped it tight. He thought that had to have looked cool.
Now he felt fully prepared for battle. A small, angry brunette rushed him and he swung both sticks toward her head. They both struck at the same time on opposite sides and she dropped to the floor.
Two women broke off from the still slowly advancing group with the intention of flanking him. He whipped his head to the left and to the right, keeping an eye on both of them. He thought, “I can take ‘em. But I need to take a piss first.”
He raised his hands in the air, looking like he was going to use the pool cues as spears. This was not his intention – he was communicating the wrong thing. He dropped the spears so he could make the correct hand signal, holding one hand in the air horizontally while placing the other beneath it vertically. He rapidly tapped the fingertips of his right hand with the palm of his left.
“Time out! Time out, goddammit. I gotta take a leak.”
The women stopped advancing. He looked around for the restrooms, but didn’t see any signs. He didn’t know this place and he was afraid he wasn’t going to be able to find a toilet before he couldn’t hold it any longer.
One of the women said, “Why don’t you just piss in your pants, asshole?”
He felt like he was going to, the urge was becoming so great. He couldn’t stand it anymore, but didn’t know where to go. He just kept looking around and willing his bladder to hold on a goddamned second.
Carl opened his eyes and said, “Goddamn. I gotta piss like a seahorse.” He was lying on his back in an empty ski lodge which was the main building in a deserted ski resort, a few miles from the Ice Bunny Resort.
He and Trey had broken in the night before and sat on the floor drinking beer and smoking pot until they had both passed out. According to the sunlight, they had slept well into the day. They were on private property, but they had no fear of the owner coming to the lodge.
The resort had been vacant for over 40 years and would probably remain vacant forever. It was fenced off and the owner had posted signs everywhere making it very clear that this was private property. Carl told Trey it would be a great place to crash until they found something better - or until the owner came by and spotted them.
Carl got up quickly then stopped for a second as his head pounded with pain. He put his hand on top of his head and pressed down as if he could stop the pounding sensation that way. He walked to the front door, pulled it open and stepped outside.
He probably would’ve relieved himself somewhere other than the wooden deck just outside the door if he hadn’t had to go so bad, and if his head wasn’t still throbbing from a hangover. As it was, he said, “Fuck it,” and unzipped right outside the door.
He urinated on the wooden deck, waiting for the urgent, nearly painful feeling to go away. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the relief he’d feel any second. The air outside was cold and felt good at the moment.
Finally, he was past the halfway point of emptying his bladder and he relaxed and felt better. His arms were really feeling the cold air now. He opened his eyes and glanced up to see if it looked like there’d be snow today.
“Holy shit! Trey! Get out here. You gotta see this.”
He couldn’t believe what he saw on the horizon rising in the sky above the mountains, coming from somewhere over the Denver area. The unmistakable formation of a mushroom cloud hung in the air. Someone had nuked Denver and Carl thought it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen.
He turned around, zipping up his pants and yelled, “Trey! Wake your ass up, man. You ain’t gonna believe this.” He squinted his eyes from the pain that yelling brought to his head. “Goddamn, I need a beer.”
He walked over to the twelve-pack carton sitting next to Trey and bent down to reach inside for a can. Again, the pain in his head was there to punish him for the act of bending over. He stood back up with a can of Coors Light, cracked the top and then he kicked the bottom of one of Trey’s boots, finally waking him.
“What the fuck, Carl? Why you gotta be an asshole like that?”
“Get up! You gotta see this outside. You’ll shit your fuckin’ pants.”
“Get up so I can shit my pants?”
“No. Grab a fuckin’ beer and get your ass out here.”
“Shit. You don’t got aspirin, do ya?”
Carl just looked at him for a few seconds, thinking, “Why the fuck would I have a aspirin?”
“What’s the big deal, anyway?” Trey reluctantly pulled himself up into a sitting position and looked around, rubbing his eyes.
“Come on, dammit! This shit’s gonna blow your mind.”
“Why don’t you tell me what it is, so I got some motivation to get up?”
“What if I told you every single cop in Denver just turned to dust?”
“I’d tell you to share whatever it is you’re smokin’.”
“I’m serious, Trey. I ain’t gonna say anymore. This is somethin’ you gotta see for yourself.”
Trey’s curiosity was finally aroused, although he suspected that Carl had lost his mind or really was smoking something that he wasn’t sharing. Either way, he wasn’t going to f
ind out without getting up and going outside to see what had knocked Carl off his rails. He reached into the twelve-pack case and felt around until his fingers landed on the last can of beer. He grabbed it and got up.
“This better be worth it. A few more hours and I mighta slept past this hangover.”
“Trust me, Trey. This is the first day of the rest of our fuckin’ lives.”
Trey scowled. Carl’s statement reminded him of some kind of motivational bullshit he didn’t care for. Trey was wearing a blue denim vest that featured more dirt than blue over a black t-shirt that had faded to grey. He reached into the breast pocket for his cigarettes, took one out and lit it with a Bic he found on the floor.
“Okay. Let’s see this.”
Trey followed Carl out to the deck and looked around, not seeing anything but Carl’s big, shit-eating grin.
“Well, I don’t see anything. What’s this nonsense about cops turning to dust?”
“Ain’t that the coolest thing ever?” Carl pointed at the sky over Denver.
Trey looked to where Carl was pointing and his mouth fell open while his eyes widened as far as they could go. He looked panic-stricken.
“No, no, no!”
“Hell, yes, Trey!”
“No, Carl! My sister and her kid live down there!”
“Not anymore,” Carl said.
Trey swung at Carl without thinking, connecting with his jaw and sending the bigger man flying backwards, stumbling and landing on his ass.
“Okay,” Carl said, rubbing his jaw. “I’m gonna let you have that one, cuz you just lost family. But try it again, and you’ll wish you hadn’t.”
Trey ignored him as he stared at the sky and thought about his kid sister, Tori and her little girl, Lizzy. He realized his parents could also be dead now if bombs had dropped in California too, but that didn’t bother him. It was a little sad if his mom was gone, but he never talked to her much anyway since he couldn’t stand being around his father. All the bastard ever did was tell him how wrong he was about everything in his life. Fuck him. Good riddance.
Carl got back up and went inside for another beer. The carton was empty. He picked up his keys from the floor and looked around to see if he needed to get anything else before leaving. Finding nothing, he walked back outside.
“Trey, we need to do some shopping.”
Trey finally snapped out of his sorrowful trance and his thoughts of what a shame it was for Tori and her cute little kid to have died so young.
“We ain’t got any money.”
“Money? Hell. Who needs money? Don’t you know what that big ol’ cloud means? Everything’s free now. We don’t need no money. We take what we want. Ain’t no fucking cops to stop us.” Carl smiled like it was the greatest day of his life.
“Maybe there ain’t no cops in Denver, but there’s still county and state that wouldn’ta been there when the bomb went off.”
“Fuck ‘em. We’ll take them out too. You know why? Cuz there ain’t no reinforcements comin’ from Denver! Hooo-weeee!”
Carl walked over to his Harley-Davidson motorcycle, got on it, and put the key in the ignition. “I’m goin’ shoppin’ anywhere I damn well please. You comin’?”
He straddled his bike and kick-started it instead of using the electric starter button. He felt powerful and wanted to exert the energy. He revved his engine while Trey went inside to get his keys.
Carl unsnapped the leather sheath on his belt and pulled out his hunting knife. He turned it over, looking at one side then the other, and talking to it.
“I think you and me are gonna have to go get us some guns.”
He put the knife back and snapped the cover shut and smiled, looking forward to all that life suddenly had to offer him.
Twelve
Tori panicked and looked all around, desperately hoping to spot the bright pink little ski jacket that Elizabeth wore. She didn’t see her anywhere, so she yelled, “Elizabeth! Where are you?!” She walked to the road at the end of the driveway and looked both ways, seeing nothing but trees, widely spaced cabins, and dirty snow.
“Elizabeth!” she called again, not knowing what to do or which way to go to find her daughter. She fought back tears and the urge to panic and tried to think. Where could she have possibly gone? She wasn’t walking in either direction down the road – she’d be extremely visible if she was.
She looked around and tried to imagine where would a three-year old go – what would attract her or draw her attention?
“Mommy.”
Did she actually hear that, or was she imagining it?
“Where are you, baby? Elizabeth, where are you?”
“I’m right here,” the tiny voice sounded from somewhere nearby.
Tori turned to face the cabin and saw the bright pink of her daughter’s jacket under her Pontiac Sunbird. She ran the short distance and bent down to reach for her daughter.
“Oh, Jesus, baby. You scared me to death. Why are you under the car?”
“The loud noise was scaring me, so I hided.”
“It’s okay now, baby. Come here.”
Elizabeth crawled to her mother. Tori picked her up and carried her to the porch and set her down for a minute.
“I’m sorry about the scary noise. I had to break this window so we can get inside Grandma and Grandpa’s cabin and get warm.”
“How come?”
“Because I don’t have the key.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where’s Gramma and Grampa?”
“I don’t know, baby.”
Tori told herself that she hadn’t just lied to her daughter. She didn’t know that her parents were dead from a nuclear blast, or possibly dying from radiation poisoning somewhere. It was just the most probable thing. But she didn’t need to tell Elizabeth about what had probably happened.
“I’m going to pick you up and carry you through the window. I need you to put your hands in front of your chest and keep them there. We have to be very careful going through the window so we don’t get cut. Okay?”
Elizabeth nodded solemnly. Tori picked her up, held her tightly and carefully and slowly ducked and stepped one foot into the front room, crunching glass beneath her foot. She leaned over and gently lowered Elizabeth until her shoes touched the floor.
“You can put your hands down now, but don’t move.”
Elizabeth looked at the broken glass all over the floor as Tori came through the rest of the way.
“The first thing we have to do is clean up this mess – then we need to cover the broken window. Come with me, baby.”
Tori got a broom and dustpan from the utility room near the back door. She left Liz at the dining room table with a coloring book and crayons she took from her little backpack. She cleaned up all of the glass that she could see and feared that there would still be little specks she couldn’t see and they’d end up finding them with their bare feet. If she ever managed to get the house warm, they would have to wear shoes in the living room. She put the broom and dustpan away and looked for something she could use to cover the window.
She couldn’t find anything but sheets and duct tape. Before trying to tape the sheet over the big window, she put a can of soup on the gas stove with a very low flame. She turned around, looked down at Liz and saw that she had drawn what might’ve been a mushroom cloud over a picture of a house with an apple tree in the front yard.
Tori shook her head. She knew that sooner or later Liz would talk about the strange cloud she’d seen and she’d ask Tori if she’d seen it too, and she’d want to know what it was. Tori did not want to tell her daughter about the horror and genocide that had been unleashed on all of the people who lived in their hometown.
Thirteen
The sound of the two Harleys roaring along the deserted mountain highway bounced off the granite on one side of them then fell away down the cliff on the other. Up here, the air was still clean and the morning was beautiful; like anot
her world, untouched by the nightmare of carnage in the city below.
Carl was driving fast and exploiting the fact that there was little or no chance of being pulled over and getting hassled for violating the speed limit. He was doing just over 90 mph on turns rated for 45. Trey was also going faster than usual, but was falling further and further behind. He too liked the freedom of being able to drive as fast as he wanted and not worry about having a suspended license or no insurance, but he also wanted to be alive to enjoy this new freedom.
Carl slowed as he reached an intersection. The crossroad was paved to the left for about a quarter mile then turned to gravel as it became a private road with just a few houses. He lit a cigarette and looked at the houses as he waited for Trey to catch up. He could see the cars on the street but the distance was too far to tell if the houses might be occupied or not. It was getting darker, but not dark enough yet for anyone who was home to have any lights on.
He heard the sound of Trey’s bike approaching but he was still around a curve and not visible yet. Carl was impatient to check out the houses and see what they could score. If they were lucky, they’d find guns. They needed guns now, and the fact that they were felons and weren’t able to legally own them no longer mattered. Carl smiled, thinking about the new order of things.
Trey finally pulled up and stopped his bike. He took out a cigarette and asked Carl what the big smile was about.
“You ever buy a grab bag - where you don’t know what you’re gonna find inside?”
Trey lit his cigarette and blew out blue smoke that rapidly expanded, whirled around their heads and disappeared with the mountain breeze.
“I know what one is, but I don’t know as I actually bought one. Maybe as a kid. Why?”
“That’s what I’m looking at down the road. Coupla grab bags. We go in, and who knows what we’re gonna find inside?” The big grin was back as Carl felt the thrill and excitement of getting ready to go into someone’s house and face the unknown. And whatever they found, they could take.
In The End: a pre-apocalypse novel Page 5