The Dark Days: The Others - Episode 3

by Ginger Gelsheimer

  My goal is to get us to the hospital. Hopefully, we will find medical supplies and survivors. We float along, but it’s slow because my shoulder is burning and Elsie isn’t that strong. I have to stop to rest every ten minutes or so when the pain gets to be too much.

  “Here.” Elsie tosses me a flat, black container of some kind. The glass is dark so I can’t see the contents inside. “For your shoulder. Rub some of that on it.”

  I remove the lid and smell a sweet aroma. “Elsie, what is this?”

  “Just some Gilead and Eucalyptus, dear. It will help your sore muscles.”

  I dip my finger in the ointment and then rub it into my shoulder.

  “Get a little more, it’s okay. Go on now.”

  The salve is already helping. I stick my finger deeper into the slimy substance and then massage it into my shoulder.

  “Now, give it a few minutes and you should feel better. Why don’t you hand me that peanut butter.” She motions to the plastic red lid sticking out of my backpack.

  I toss it to her and pull out a can of apple juice for me. A giggle starts to creep out. I’m drifting in a kayak with a witch doctor in the Atlantic Ocean in Colorado! I laugh.

  And then Elsie laughs.

  I laugh harder.

  Elsie can’t hold back her smile if she tries. It’s wider than a Cheshire! She chuckles.

  Tears form in my eyes. For such a dire situation, this moment has become hysterical.

  Now my stomach hurts. I can’t look at her for a moment if I’m ever going to stop laughing. I gaze at the sky above her head. Grey clouds roll in over the mountains. Within minutes, they cover the sun, and the temperature feels like it has dropped twenty degrees.

  A street sign across the way to my right says 56th. I take a minute to look around. I pull the plastic map out of my backpack and unfold it. “Elsie, we don’t need a road. We could take a shortcut as the crow flies. What do you think?” I hold the map out to her. “It’s a straight shot if we cut diagonally through here.”

  She looks in the direction to where I point. Water.

  “Looks like we can float there the same as here. It’s shorter and it’s already getting cold.”

  I feel the first snowflake on my cheek which kicks off my shivering and teeth chattering. Not ten minutes later, the sky is almost black, and we are in the middle of a blizzard. We need to find shelter, but there’s nothing around.

  We try to paddle, but the blustery winds steal our progress, and I can’t see where we’re going. Everything has faded into the darkness. Elsie tucks Bernie into her coat. She’s worried. I’m freezing and my feet have probably already suffered hypothermia.

  I honestly have no idea what we’re going to do, but I console her best I can, “Don’t worry, Elsie. I’ll find us a pla-” I stop when I hear the sound of an engine or motor.

  I look over my shoulder and wonder if I’m seeing a mirage—it’s the first time I ever see Kane Fairchild.

  He waves us down from a Bayliner—all six-five feet of him with his long, black ponytail. Slowing down, he pulls up close beside us. “Need a lift?”

  “W-Where are y-you headed?” I chatter. What a stupid thing for me to say. Of course, we need a lift, regardless of where he’s headed.

  “Yes, we do,” Elsie says quickly.

  I watch Kane’s lips spread into a smile. I was already focused on them because they’re so full. “Downtown. We have a safe place there—you’re welcome to come.”

  “Y-yes that would be gr-great,” I manage to spit out.

  Kane takes off his coat and gives it to me. “Sounds like you need it more than I do.” His arms are covered with tattoos. The one on his left is a majestic black lion with a full mane and purple and blue highlights. On his right arm, he has two different tattoos—a tribal sleeve decorates his bicep and a pirate lies on the beach drinking rum on his forearm. I was instantly drawn to him because I love tattoos. For my eighteenth birthday, I bought myself a sparrow on my left shoulder. It says ‘free’ in the lower wing, exactly how I need to be.

  I put his coat on and it smells fantastic! “Thank you.” Even after everything, he’s still spraying cologne on his clothes.

  “You’re welcome,” he says, helping Elsie move from the kayak to the platform at the rear of the boat. She gives me the goofiest smile once she’s safely on board.

  He holds his hand out to me. “You coming?” His eyes are green like a rain forest.

  I take his hand and his grip is tight, safe. I step from the kayak to the platform and climb aboard the boat. Kane lifts the kayak out of the water and sets it on the platform at the back before handing me the rope to hold onto.

  “Here you go. Hold that tight and it should be okay back there. I’m Kane. What’re your names, ladies?”

  “Claudia.” It comes out high-pitched like I’m five years old. He makes me nervous.

  “I’m Elsie.” She opens her jacket to reveal her pigeon. “This is Bernie.”

  “Nice to meet you Claudia and Elsie...and Bernie. Where are you coming from?” he asks as he powers up the boat.

  “The airport. There’s a shelter there—sort of,” Elsie replies.

  “Where is your safe place Downtown?” I wonder how anything can be safe there. I know it’s much lower than the airport.

  “The Brown Palace Hotel. There’s a group of us that have stayed there since it happened.”

  It. The Death Asteroid—the worst disaster to ever hit the Earth. “How many of you are there?” I ask.

  “About twenty,” he says.

  Not enough to overtake Dorian. Damn.

  Chapter 3

  Kane navigates the boat through the former streets of Downtown Denver. The grid is still in place, but there are no streets, no stoplights, and no people. Elsie and I stare in awe at buildings scattered about like lily pads. The water level is above several floors on most of the buildings, and the situation is redefined once again. Even though it’s been weeks, my brain cannot fathom the reality. Some part of it believes in a place that will be normal when I wake up from this nightmare.

  The boat slows and the engine putts. I can smell the gasoline. We approach an open set of windows to a guestroom at the Brown Palace Hotel. I could easily swim from here.

  Wrrrreeeeeeeet! With two fingers between his lips, Kane whistles louder than I’ve ever heard anyone. This draws my attention once again to his full lips and strong jaw line.

  My gaze is interrupted when an older man sticks his head out the window. He’s got a long, silver ponytail, but his face is young, and I can tell his body is strong by the definition in his biceps. His mustache curves down the sides of his mouth like someone out of the Old West.

  “Well, now how about that,” the man says with a southern drawl. “Looks like it was worth one more trip.” I assume he’s referring to us.

  Kane tosses the man a rope. “Thanks, Sam. Found these two stranded a little east of here.” Sam steps away from the window as we float toward the hotel. All I can think is that Dali should have painted this somehow.

  Sam returns and pulls us in. With Bernie peeking out of her coat, Elsie grabs her trunk and heads to the side of the boat. Sam holds her hand as she steps up onto the window sill and into the room.

  Kane comes up behind me and grabs me by the waist, giving me a lift up inside the window. I could have climbed up myself, but he smells so good that I let him help.

  I step inside and the room smells musty like week-old wet towels. Candles provide the only light. Based on the brown stained walls and the dingy, greyed carpet, the once beautifully decorated suite was flooded during the disaster. This hotel is an icon—almost every President since Teddy Roosevelt has stayed here.

  The room is empty except for Sam. “I’ll take you to the suites,” he says with a friendly smile.

  Just the fact that he says, ‘suites’ instead of ‘shelter’ makes me like him and he has good energy. Elsie must like him too because she is standing far inside his personal space and gazi
ng up at him like she’s in love. I give her a quick smile and motion to Sam which makes her blush.

  Kane finishes securing the boat and then leads us out onto the mezzanine in the center of the hotel. I stand against the golden railing where you used to be able to look down and see the main floor with its classic grand piano—not anymore because the first few floors are submerged. In the dim candlelight, I notice the old piano floating among random Victorian furniture. The Shining? I can’t see blood, but I know there was plenty of it from the disaster.

  We ascend the spiral staircase and now I can see a few more people scattered about in the flicker of the torch light. Two guys bicker over a chess move, both enjoy cigars. On the opposite side of them, another skinny, older woman snuggles up in a blanket, reading a paperback that looks like it has made its rounds based on the missing cover. I’m happy to see this area managed to avoid the flood. The normalcy is soothing—very unlike the airport prison. I cringe at the fact I have to go back there.

  Sam reaches the top floor. “These here are the only two floors that weren’t flooded.”

  “Really? How sad,” Elsie says putting her hand on Sam’s arm to help her balance as she climbs up the last step. She’s so short—it’s a climb for her.

  We follow Kane into one of the suites. It’s cozy and warm and several others are lounging about. “Turned up a couple more survivors…Claudia and Elsie. They were floating in a kayak when I found them.” Nice intro. He rubs my back, but real quick like a coach congratulating me or something.

  A plump older woman with colored-brown hair bellows from the sofa, “Welcome to the palace. Surely, you’ll find it more comfortable than a kayak. I’m Molly.” Her welcome is warm.

  “Hi Molly, nice to meet you.” My smile to her is sweet and sincere. I can be charming when I want to be. I was known for it back in the day—the day when stuff like that mattered.

  “You can put your things over here for now,” Kane says, pointing to a small rectangular table against the wall. He disappears into another room.

  I slide my backpack off my good shoulder and set it down behind the table. Another young man, most likely in his early-thirties, comes over to greet us next.

  “How’s it going? I’m Jimbo.” He is stocky with a strong build and has red hair that sets off his blue eyes—they’re like ice.

  “Hey. I’m Claudia and that’s my friend Elsie.” Elsie is intently focused on Sam.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Do you have a lot of food?” I don’t know why everything I say comes out so blunt, but it has since I was ten. I’m not sure how to say things any other way. My mother always said it was one of those things I’d learn as I got older and had more experiences. Lucky for her she’s not here dealing with all this.

  “Our supply is getting low, but we’ll always have enough for anyone who’s starving.” Dorian never would have said that.

  Elsie puts the most distance from Sam she’s had since we met him and comes over to join us. “Whatcha got?”

  “Mostly things from minibars,” he says. “That was the best night we’ve had here, cracking all those open!” He drifts off into a daydream but snaps out of it quickly. “Unfortunately, the food is usually located on the ground floor of the buildings. We raided all the hotels we were able to get into and salvaged what we could.”

  “Remember Peaks Lounge?” Kane laughs and looks to Jimbo.

  Jimbo smiles big. “The Hyatt was the best hit—we actually got some real food there.”

  Kane walks over to us. “Please, make yourselves at home.” He tugs on the collar of his coat that I’m wearing to help me take it off. I could have stayed wrapped up in it all night.

  “Thank you.” I wish I could sleep in it. There was something safe and wonderful about it.

  “What are your plans?” Elsie dives right in. “Since you are low on food and everything.” She takes a seat at a small wooden table meant for two.

  Jimbo sets a jar of cashews on the table in front of her. Cashews! Those are like gold compared to the peanuts we’ve been living on.

  Kane sits down in the wingback chair across from Elsie. “We’re planning to move west in another week or so. It’s ironic isn’t it? I kind of have to laugh that big cities like Denver are useless now. No one needs an office or its service. We can’t grow food and there isn’t any more here, so what good is it?”

  There it is in a nutshell—real. I like Kane more and more by the second.

  “You don’t have any extra medical supplies you can spare do you? Maybe some antibiotics?” I hope I don’t sound too needy.

  Elsie stares at me like I’m an alien.

  “Well, yeah, sure.” Kane is caught off guard. “But where will you go? You are both welcome to stay here with us.”

  Elsie touches Kane’s hand. “Thank you, Kane.”

  There’s no “but” in her gratitude. She wants to stay. I can’t leave Ben behind and I won’t be able to just walk in there and say, “Excuse me Dorian, I’m taking my friends and getting the hell out of your prison,” and leave. Dorian will never allow that, especially once he knows there are other survivors. Or do I even tell him?

  “I have to go back for the others.”

  “Claudia,” Elsie doesn’t finish. She knows I won’t leave them there.

  “Elsie, you should stay. It’s not safe for you to return anyway with Dorian’s impending Plan X,” I remind her.

  “Plan X? What’s that?” Jimbo asks from across the room.

  “Who’s Dorian?” Molly chimes in.

  “I can’t let you go there alone,” Elsie ignores them.

  I try my best to persuade her. “The more people we try to escape with, the more likely it is we’ll get caught. We’re already up one to nothing if you stay.”

  “What’s Plan X?” asks a new stranger who sits in the far corner of the room.

  I would guess him to be a professor with his small circular lenses, skinny, yet distinguished build, and his tobacco pipe.

  I sit down on the couch near Elsie and Kane. “We’re not exactly sure, but it has something to do with survival of the fittest. Dorian doesn’t want to feed or give any medical supplies to those that are old or sick.”

  “Are they barbarians?” Molly interjects.

  “They’re headed that way,” Elsie replies. “And Dorian is Conan.”

  I’m tickled at her response. It was a blessing she swam up to the roof and found us that day. It seems like forever ago.

  “Why would ya go back then?” Sam asks. I swear he jumped right out of an old western movie.

  “Where are you going anyway?” The professor sets his dated paper down.

  “I must return to the airport—that’s where our friends are. I have to let them know about you. We have an alternative to that prison.”

  “He’ll never let you out,” Elsie scoffs.

  I know she’s right, especially since I won’t be bringing her back. The only way I’ll get out again is to escape. “We made it once before, we can do it again.” I have to force my confidence because I have to believe it myself if I have any chance.

  “Suit yourself,” Kane says. He’s disappointed, which makes it even harder.

  The thought of leaving is excruciating. “I’ll be okay. I have to help them,” I say under my breath because the words don’t want to come out.

  Kane gets up from the table.

  Is he coming over next to me? I’ve felt an attraction to him since the moment I saw him.

  “Claudia, may I?” He’s in motion to sit before I have a chance to respond. In the candlelight, his eyes are artistic with strokes of green and gold and a sliver of blue.

  “When do you want to leave?” He places his hand on my knee in a friendly sort of way. “I would hope you’ll at least stay tonight. Sleep in a nice warm bed and get some rest.”

  I know Ben, Masaru and Edgar are going to worry, but I can’t ask him to take me back now. It’s dark, cold and miserable outside.

  �
�Tomorrow morning. Would that be okay?” Nausea creeps into my gut as the words crawl out.

  “Yeah, I’ll take you back in the morning,” Kane agrees.

  “Thank you.”

  “For now, come with me.” He takes hold of my hand. He’s warm and sends a tingle through my fingers.

  Elsie winks at me as we exit the room.

  ***

  We enter a master suite which happens to be the Beatles’ tribute suite. Even though they died forever ago, I love their old rock and roll music. Everything now is metallic, robotic or some kind of code.

  Kane disappears for a minute, so I browse around the room. Pictures of the Beatles decorate the walls and there’s even a jukebox. Too bad there’s no electricity, I haven’t heard music for weeks. It’s some of the simple things I miss the most.

  He returns carrying a blanket and two wine glasses. “Ready?”

  I must have a blank stare on my face because he feels the need to explain.

  “Seems like you’re getting ready to head back to a dire situation. Figured you should at least enjoy one night while you’re here. I’m taking you to the lake.”

  That sets off my curiosity. “You have a lake?”

  His smile is big and white—like a celebrity. Guess we don’t have any of those anymore. I still can’t get used to the random, weird thoughts that occur in my head—the new realities that pop in once in a while.

  “Come on.” He tugs on my hand.

  He leads me down the stairs for several floors until we reach the lake, a.k.a. the flooded floors of the hotel. It’s eerie and has the hairs on my arms standing up, but my stomach quivers from nervous excitement—excitement about Kane, not the potentially haunted hotel.

  “The lake.” He’s so charming and his smile… “Will you hold these?” He hands me the wine glasses. They’re exquisite, etched with a delicate design in the crystal around the rims.