by Mariah Lynde
The pattern remained the same. I headed out into the streets of my little suburban town and trekked across the overpass to the other side of the city. This time, I threw caution to the wind. Who cares why I was buying so many things in bulk? Maybe they’d think I was one of those crazy once a month shoppers. I could live with that label, especially if my already seemingly confirmed suspicions became reality for everyone.
I was unrepentant. If nothing else, I would survive this mess to make it home to my family and friends. What happened after that would be anyone’s guess. This was one of those times when Robbie came to the forefront of my mind. Much like me, he had a knack for thinking several steps ahead in the game. If anyone besides me would be thinking about the long term scenario and a possible end game, it would be him.
This time, I took no prisoners. It didn’t matter what it was: medicine, shampoo, toothpaste, food… If it was something I considered a necessity, I was grabbing a bunch of it. By the time I made it to the front register, I had the grocery cart piled so high with odds and ends that the cashier couldn’t see me over the heap.
“Welcome to Food Lion. Do you have your MVP?” I didn’t even bat an eyelash when I handed over my scannable keychain card. Sure, it was the second Food Lion tonight, but it wasn’t like I had a whole lot of options. That particular grocery chain seemed to have a choke hold on this area leaving little room for competition, but it was a store. Hell, I was just glad this one was far enough away from the first site I’d stopped at. The last thing I needed was someone to recognize me from the other store and start tongues to wagging. Either way I just nodded to the cashier and busied myself with the task at hand.
I took great care in unloading my purchases onto the register belt. I mentally ticked off each one from the makeshift list that I had formed in my head while walking through the store.
More than once, the cashier and bagger eyed me as if I were a loon. A lesser person would have shied away and apologized, but me? I looked right back at them and gave a shit-eating grin, like I’d just won the lottery and used the money to build a damn bomb shelter to save me from an alien attack.
“You sure you’re okay, ma’am?” The cashier looked at me like she thought it might be possible to catch crazy. Little did she know.
“Yeah, I’m good.” I shrugged a little, not willing to offer anything more than that as an answer.
Disbelief settled on her features and a part of me wanted to giggle like a mad hatter at the expression on her face. She thought I was completely insane. Not that I could blame her, with the crazy combination of things that had just crossed her register. It likely would have made me do a double take if I’d been in the same position.
“Your total comes up to, $538.73.” This time, her eyes were narrowed on me intently. Oh, she expected me to pull out monopoly money or something. Sorry, chica. I pulled out my wallet and grabbed my debit card, moving straight to the pin pad to pay for my purchases.
I reveled in the look of shock and disbelief on the teenage girl’s face when she realized that I could actually afford to pay for what she considered a mound of insanity. Offering my best imitation of a beauty pageant wave, I grabbed my cart and made my way out of the store and straight to the Explorer.
This time, I was grateful for all the time I spent playing Tetris as a child. In order to make everything fit in the back utility and storage portion of the Explorer, I had to employ skills that only those of my generation could use. Being of the generation that had grown up making the shapes fit in the small spaces for fun, I knew I had an advantage. After twenty minutes of cursing, precision, and a couple of ill attempts at trying to smoosh a couple of errant objects into new shapes, I closed the back hatch and made my way to the driver’s seat.
Leaning forward, I took a moment to lay my forehead against the steering wheel. I could feel the strain of the day pulling at me, begging me to sink into the blissful ignorance of sleep, but for now, that wasn’t an option. I still had things to do and people to contact. Pulling in a slow breath, I sat up and pulled my seatbelt down across my chest. It was time to go home.
Chapter Nine – Why Can’t We Be Friends?
It took me twenty minutes to make my way to the small duplex apartment I called home. While it wasn’t fancy or well-to-do, it served its purpose. Moderately priced, I had considered finding this place a deal, especially when I learned the small duplexes had been given basement storage areas that could also serve as a storm shelter. Thanks to wild weather patterns, most of the newer complexes built in the Sandhills were kitted out to withstand tornadoes, hurricanes, severe summer storms, and those wonderfully crazy winter storms that had been popping up more and more often.
There were about twenty duplexes in total. All of them spread around a massive parking lot that spanned the length of a little under three football fields and about the same width. Pulling up to the gate and putting in my code, I couldn’t get over the fact that things seemed eerily quiet tonight.
Stop it! I chastised myself. You’re just on edge from what happened at work earlier. You’re fine. I laughed when I realized that it almost seemed as if saying such things, even to myself, made them completely true.
“I’ve seen this horror movie. I don’t think I like the false sense of security. That’s normally where the fat chick gets eaten,” I grumbled. Wonderful, I had just started arguing with myself. That particular neurosis would make it hard for anyone to believe I was sane. Pulling up towards my apartment, it dawned on me at the last second that I should back in to make it easier to unload the car.
While I’m not a bad driver, I know my limits. Short as I am, it doesn’t matter if I’m driving a car, a minivan, an ambulance, or an SUV – backing up is a maneuver that is so bloody difficult it sucks. Fortunately for me, whether it was by sheer dumb luck or God’s grace, I no longer had a neighbor sharing the other side of my duplex, so if I didn’t back in straight… Well, the way I see it now? No harm, no foul.
No sooner had I come to a stop than my cell phone rang out. I scrambled to throw the Explorer in park, turn off the ignition and answer the phone all at once. I found out I could only do two of those things at once - I answered the cell phone and tried to shut off the car resulting in a strangled click, click, click, grind as it protested about still being in reverse.
“Hello?” I could only hope I’d been on time to stop it from going to voicemail.
“Angel Marie Warren, you hung up on me!” Wonderful, my mother strikes again. I should really learn to look at my caller ID when I’m too distracted to pay attention to the music.
“Yes, Mother. I’m aware of what I did. I just got home, can this wait a few minutes?” Weary, I realized that my long night had just gotten exponentially longer.
“No, it cannot. You have to come home. Now! Tonight!” My mother’s shrill tone of voice had me pulling the phone away from my ear.
“Mom, that’s not going to happen. I’m dead tired and there is a lot going on−”
“There is a lot going on everywhere.” This time, my mother’s voice had dropped to a near whisper. So much so that each word sounded like a hiss as she continued, “I’m scared if you wait, you won’t be able to get here, sugarbean.”
“What are you talking about, Mom?” My mother’s words had sent a cold chill down my spine. If she had been looking for a way to get my attention, she had definitely found it.
“Your father, he went to work today. Doing one of those contracts out on the base. He said there were all sorts of people there, causing a ruckus. One of them got attacked by some soldier that just up and started tearing people’s throats out. Your Dad swears they shot the man right there. Just after it happened, they had him and all the other civilians escorted off base before they started locking it down.” I listened attentively. I could see her concern, but if what she said had a lick of truth to it, no amount of speeding would get me down there before all the gates had been shut.
“Listen, Mom…I understand what you’re say
ing. I do. But, if I tried to get down there while they have the base shut down, what do you think would happen? I’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere and still not able to get to you. You know as well as I do that Ft. Bragg is a nightmare if they shut down the post now. Think about this, Mom. People will get phone calls like this one and panic so they’ll all head in towards town at once. I could be caught in traffic for days just trying to get around all the roadblocks.” My mother sometimes needed to be reminded of the practicalities of reality.
“But, sugarbean…”
“No, Mom. Listen. If this is even a serious thing, the chances I’ll get home while the post is closed is nil. You know this. However, there is always the chance that it’s just some kind of training drill. If it is, you’ll see me soon enough. Don’t go making mountains out of molehills.” Yeah, right. You already know this is serious and now you’re lying to your own mother!
I will admit to you that the amount of guilt I felt in that moment cannot truly be measured. I knew I should say something – warn her about what I suspected. However, there would be a problem if I did. I knew that if I told her the truth, well what I suspected might be the truth, my mother would be panicking a lot more than she already was.
You may think that it would be an acceptable risk. I promise you, that is not the case where my mother is concerned. Both of my parents are geniuses in their own ways. My father can pick up any number of activities and perfect them with an ease that is almost disgusting. However, as with all geniuses, there is one pitfall: No common sense.
My mother is definitely a horse of a different color. She has a knack for adapting an emergency situation into something easily forgettable. Where my father has no common sense, my mother has a wealth of it. While we kids may not have been super geniuses, we’re smart enough and grounded enough to handle life as it comes. Such was the blessing of having inherited only certain traits from either of our parents.
If my mom was so good in an emergency situation, why not tell her what I know? That is easy. The best answer I can give to make anyone understand my decision is this: I am her child. Come hell or high water, if my mother believed for one moment that things were as dangerous as they seemed to be, she’d risk life and limb to get to me and drag me back with her. If things went south like I thought they would, that put not only myself at risk, but also my mother and whoever else she dragged along for the ride. My parents stood a better chance of survival in familiar surroundings with familiar people. My father would come up with one of his plans and my mother could operate in the safety of her bubble.
This might seem cruel, and in a way it is. However, I had to look at this from all angles. My parents were a good twenty years older than myself and both had their share of medical issues that worried me. I knew that having them out in the middle of Armageddon could be disastrous. I much preferred to be the only one trying to navigate through madness and possible danger, not to mention the fact I knew that I would not be the only one my mother called. My siblings and their families were likely making their way to my parent’s home right now. They both lived a lot closer than me and I knew that, to some degree, that would help in protecting everyone just a little bit better.
“I have a bad feeling about this, Angel.” Hearing the worry in my mother’s voice, I almost caved. She had also resorted to bringing out the big guns. My mother hated Star Wars, so her decision to use it now meant that she had a purpose. No lie, I wanted to just curl up and bawl like a baby. A part of me feared that this would be the last time I spoke with her.
That thought alone kind of kicked me in the gut. No way! I would not go out without seeing my mom again. Which made what I said next all the more meaningful.
“Mom, when have I ever failed to do what I promise?”
“That’s not the point Angel Ma−”
“Mom, if I say it’ll be fine and I’ll get home. I mean it. You know that.” I rolled my eyes. Sometimes dealing with my mother was more of a pain than anything else.
“This is different! You could at least come home, just for the weekend. Your dad and I could help pay.” I could hear it, that subtle strength that had been lacking in my mother’s voice seemed to be reappearing. Of course, it was while she was trying to guilt me into coming home and offering money, but it was better than what I’d heard a few seconds before. I smiled a little then.
“Nice try, Mom. I am telling you – whatever is going on, whatever happens – I promise you I will make it back home. You just have to wait.” I made sure that as I said that, there would be no question as to my resolve. This happened to be a Warren family trait. We had once called it our version of ‘The Unbreakable Vow’.
All of a sudden, everything on the other end of the line went silent. I worried that maybe the call had been cut-off and the crazy had begun, until my mother spoke.
“You know something, don’t you?” Damn it.
Let me tell you something right here, right now. If you think you can lie to your parents believably, you’re wrong. They always know. No matter how much you try to hide it, they will forever be able to access your brain in some way to find out when you are lying your ass off.
“Mom…”
“How bad, Angel Marie?”
“Ouch…Middle name again…Really, Mom?” I winced a little. I had not meant to get her all riled up. Guess I failed there.
“Angel! How bad is this?” Uh-oh. Sweet worried mother to commander-in-chief in less than a minute, that certainly did not bode well for me. Odds were if I did make it home in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, she would flay my hide for personal reasons tied to this night. I had two choices here: try to keep up the farce, or tell the truth and cause a complete freak-out. For several moments, I pondered just what I could say to put this conversation to rest before I dug a deeper hole for myself.
“Look, I know only rumors right now.” I chose compromise, just enough truth to skate me by. God knows, I seriously needed a break. “If it gets bad, I’ll find a way home, but the last thing any of us should do is start panicking and get antsy. You remember Hurricane Fran?”
The other end of the line went silent. I had made my point. Thank God. I suddenly released a heavy breath, not even realizing I’d been holding it.
“The hurricane was not any of my doing−”
“No, it wasn’t. However, we did more damage not having a plan and trying to drive out in the middle of that god awful weather. As I recall, it was you who said in the next emergency we should all stay in one location and not try to ferry around until we know what is going on.” Score! I will admit to a moment of personal celebration since I got to turn around something else my mother said to use against her.
“Stop smiling, Angel.” I scowled. How the hell had she known I was smiling? Just to make the instance a little more creeptastic, she added, “Just because you remember something I said years ago does not give you license to lord it over me like some kind of edict.”
“Wow, Mom. Creep much? Are you sure you don’t have a camera in my dashboard?” Sometimes my mother could be way too eerie.
“Your Dad wouldn’t let me install one.” Whether that was a joke or absolute truth I couldn’t say. The idea that such a thing had even the slightest chance of being true was kind of frightening for me. It also made me miss my mother fiercely in that moment.
“I love you, Mom. Promise me. You’ll stay there.” Suddenly, my throat felt all scratchy again. My cheeks flushed and I could have sworn it had started raining.
“I love you, baby. You get home to us, you hear me?”
“I will.”
“Remember what your Daddy taught you. I’ll see you soon.” That was it. A soft click and I knew that call had ended. Lifting a hand to wipe at my cheeks, I sniffled a little.
“Gah.” I hate crying. It is emotionally draining on the whole and quite frankly, I knew most people saw it as a manipulation. When I needed to cry I did so in the privacy of my bedroom. However, moments like this one that creep on you, t
hey were an annoyance. If anyone else had been present I would have been ashamed of my own weakness.
The argument with my mother over, I finally put the Explorer in park. It took me thirty second to actually get the car shut off and my keys out of the ignition. This day had rapidly descended into a new level of hell. Any other time, I would have been content to just go to bed, forget the world, and hope for tomorrow to be a better day. I knew that if I did, I’d be dead before the first news station went off the air. Such is the burden of knowledge.
Grumbling a little, I opened the car door and slid out to stand on the pavement. It vaguely crossed my mind that I should be more vigilant. Being exhausted and mentally taxed from the events of the day, I can honestly say at that particular moment, I didn’t give a damn. Tonight seemed to be growing longer by the minute and I hadn’t done half of what I needed to do.
Making my way to the front door of my apartment, I couldn’t help but turn my head to peer about the complex. Everything seemed normal enough but I’d already found out earlier that looks could be deceiving. Sadly, I had no way of checking to see if my suspicions were well founded. One thing I hate is waiting to have important information. Knowing if I had decided to bed down in a complex that would soon be full of brain-craving freaks was something I considered important. Be that as it may, this is the South, and banging on someone’s door at almost nine o’clock at night demanding answers could get you shot. Personally, I liked my body sans holes.
Sighing, I opened the door and made my way inside right before I remembered that I’d forgotten to lock the car. Running back outside, I could almost be grateful for my forgetfulness as I eyed the three bags on my backseat that were dotted with moisture. I must have been far more tired than I believed. I opened the door and reached over, pulling those three bags from the bench seat and hooked them over my arm. When I was sure I wouldn’t drop any of the bags, I locked the car and ran back to my front door.