by Alex Gunwick
Thirty minutes later, they were the next group to go inside. A stone-faced deputy handed one small hand basket to each person.
“You have ten minutes to shop. You can only purchase what will fit in the basket and in your hands.”
As she entered the store, she sucked in a breath. Broken glass and sticky, spilled soda covered most of the aisles. Crushed red roses littered the floor of a small flower shop at the front of the store. In the fresh fruit and vegetable section, bruised peaches and crushed corn cobs created a sea of small tripping obstacles. She carefully checked before each step, grateful she’d worn her boots instead of tennis shoes.
Liz ignored bags of chips and disheveled rows of candy bars, instead heading straight for the canned chili. She checked the labels for cans containing the most calories and added those to her basket. As she continued down the aisle, she grabbed bags of beans, cans of mixed vegetables, and the biggest bag of rice she could manage.
The carefully balanced pile in her basket teetered to one side. She dropped the bag of rice while trying to balance the weight. Fortunately it didn’t break.
On her way to the checkout stand, she added a few candy bars to the pile. Sure, they were nutritionally worthless, but they’d give her a quick burst of energy and would help morale if things got even worse.
As she waited in line, she tried not to think about all the ways things could get worse. She didn’t have to wait long. When she reached the counter, the cashier was taping a sign to the credit card reader. Cash Only.
“What’s wrong with the machines?” Liz asked.
“Can’t get the authorizations to go through. Lines are down.”
“Okay. I’m not sure how much cash I have.”
“I’ll ring it all up while you count. If you don’t have enough, we’ll put some back.”
“How are you able to ring things up if the computers aren’t working?” Liz asked.
“All the pricing data is downloaded at midnight for the next day’s specials. So we’re working off yesterday’s prices.”
“It didn’t download this morning?”
“Nope. Comes to $75.87.”
Liz dug through her purse. She managed to scrounge together $55.35. Over twenty dollars short. She kicked herself for not grabbing extra cash from her Bug Out Bag. Luke had always said cash would become the only accepted tender if there was a power failure. She’d encountered the same problem three months ago when a hacker had taken down several banking systems for several hours.
“I’m twenty dollars short,” she said.
“What do you want to put back?”
“Is there any way you can hold everything for me while I go home to get more cash?”
The cashier looked at her as if she’d grown three eyes and green tentacles.
“Have you seen this place? I’m surprised we’re even open. I can’t promise your stuff will still be here in the next five minutes. It’ll be gone for sure in another half hour or so. Probably sooner.”
“Fine. Put the candy back, and…” she studied the pile of food. “The bag of rice.” She had a giant container of rice at home, so it wasn’t a terrible loss, but it still hurt.
After paying the cashier, she dropped her remaining fifteen cents into her coin purse. She grabbed the bags of groceries and headed toward the van. Jennifer and Frank were loading their groceries. They’d been able to get a lot more because they were given one basket each. Apparently they also carried a lot of cash.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jennifer said. “I don’t like the way people are eyeing us right now.”
“Agreed,” Liz said.
She stuffed her groceries in the back of the van, hopped in, and yanked the door closed. Frank fired up the engine one second before the pulse of semi-automatic gunfire shattered the air.
Sierra hadn’t spoken more than five words to Nina all afternoon. They’d watched two romantic comedies in a row without laughing, joking, or even speaking to each other. A ball of worry rolled around in Sierra’s gut. Nina refused to tell her anything about why she’d come home covered in ashes and blood. In some ways, Sierra didn’t want to know, but she was sure it had something to do with Grant.
A knock sounded on the door. Nina froze. Her head turned slowly toward the door.
“Expecting anyone?” she asked.
“No,” Sierra said.
“Wait here.”
Nina went into the kitchen and walked out with a knife from the butcher’s block. She held it behind her back as she went to answer the door. Sierra’s eyes went wide. What was she so afraid of?
“Who is it?” Nina asked.
“Holly. Oh my God, let me in. Have you guys heard the news about Donnie’s house?”
When Nina opened the door, Holly spilled in as if she’d been pressed up against it. Nina closed the door behind her.
“His house burned down last night,” Holly said, breathlessly, as if it were the most exciting thing she’d ever heard. “The fire department didn’t come because no one could call them so it burnt to the ground. Three people died!”
“Who died?” Sierra asked while watching Nina out of the corner of her eye.
“Donovan, Cameron, and Lonnie.”
As Nina paled, a cold fissure of dread snaked through Sierra’s belly.
“How did they die?” Sierra asked.
“At first everyone thought they’d burned to death, but when people went in to search for survivors, they noticed they were covered in stab wounds.”
Sierra forced her gaze to stay on Holly. She couldn’t let it drift to the knife still held behind Nina’s back. Had Nina stabbed them?
“That’s not even everything,” Holly said.
Sierra’s spine went rigid.
“There’s a rumor going around that Donnie tried to rape someone. No one seems to know who, but someone from the party. You guys were there, right?” Holly asked.
“Not for very long,” Sierra said while casting a sideways glance at Nina.
“I wonder who it was,” Holly said.
“Who’s spreading the rumor?” Nina asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Sierra said quickly. “Does anyone know who killed them?”
Nina’s gaze snapped to Sierra. A flash of warning blazed in her eyes.
“No, but I bet it has something to do with the rape,” Holly said.
“Attempted rape,” Nina said.
“Right.” Holly frowned slightly.
“Did the cops ever come?” Nina asked.
“No. I heard they’re all over at the Spectrum shopping center. Apparently a riot broke out last night. Ten people were shot.”
“By cops?” Sierra asked.
“No, by other people. It’s crazy out there. I’m afraid to leave my apartment,” Holly said.
“And yet you’re here,” Nina said.
“I thought you’d want to know,” Holly said, an edge of frustration in her tone.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Sierra said as she ushered her toward the door. “If you hear anything else, let us know.”
“I will.”
After closing the door, she turned to face Nina. Her friend strolled into the kitchen and returned the knife to the block. Without saying a word, she walked back to the couch, resumed her position, and hit “Play” on the movie.
“We’re not going to talk about this?” Sierra asked.
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Did you… Did Grant…” She couldn’t bring herself to ask the question.
“Meg Ryan is so good in this, don’t you think?” Nina asked.
“What?”
“They had it coming.”
Sierra’s breath hitched.
“Please tell me it wasn’t you,” she whispered.
“Of course not. Grant became unhinged. I’ve never seen him so crazy,” Nina said.
“Has everyone lost their minds?”
“Probably. Everyone thinks the world’s coming to an end. They’re all turning into
wild animals.”
“Maybe I should go to the cabin.”
“If your family’s going to be there, then maybe you should. I don’t know if anyone will ever figure out that I was with Grant, but if they do, you could be in danger too.”
“I can’t believe Grant killed them,” Sierra said.
“Me either. It was crazy. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m tired. I just want to watch a movie and chill.”
“Okay.”
Sierra walked down the hall to her bedroom and closed the door. She stood in the center of the room, trying to decide what to do. Her head pounded and blood pulsed through her ears. Staying on campus wasn’t safe. The cabin was about twenty miles away. If she left when it was dark, no one would see her go. She could safely get away from all the insanity on campus.
And maybe her family was already at the cabin waiting for her. Maybe they were worried that she hadn’t arrived yet.
Sierra grabbed her phone from her nightstand and punched in her dad’s number. She got a busy signal. At least it wasn’t the usual message that the call couldn’t be completed. Maybe her dad was talking to her mom. Maybe he was trying to call her. He’d know what to do.
After waiting several minutes, she tried again.
“We’re sorry, but your call can’t be completed as dialed.”
“Shit!”
“Everything okay in there?”
Sierra jumped. Nina’s voice came from directly on the other side of the door.
“Fine,” she said as she opened the door.
“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” Nina asked.
“No. But I think I’m going to leave tonight.”
“That’s probably the right thing to do.”
“You should come with me. We have enough food at the cabin,” Sierra said.
“No thanks. I’m sure things will get back to normal as soon as they stop dropping bombs.”
“It might take a long time. What if they hit the power grid or something?”
“You sound so paranoid,” Nina said.
“It could happen.”
“Whatever. Anyway, if you’re taking off later, good luck. If I’m asleep, don’t wake me up. I’m super tired.”
“Okay.”
As she waited for night to fall, she couldn’t stop thinking about how crazy things were getting. In an unpredictable world, she couldn’t count on anyone anymore. Except her family. She needed to go home as soon as possible. Her dad had always said to go to the cabin if there was ever an evacuation-level emergency. This certainly counted.
The Bug Out Bag her father had insisted she take sat in the back of her closet. After digging it out from under a pile of clothes, she opened the olive-green backpack. She dug through the supplies until she found a waterproof map. Behind it, she grabbed a clear overlay with multiple zigzagging trails.
For OPSEC purposes, her dad had told her to ditch the overlay if she ever got captured so that her captors couldn’t find the cabin. At the time, she’d laughed at the fictional scenario. Now, she shuddered.
They’d mapped out several routes to the cabin, some more direct than others. Since she didn’t have a car, she’d have to ride her bike. She traced her finger over the bike trail, making a mental note of which roads to turn on. If she took the most direct route, she’d only have to travel about twenty miles, most of it on bike trails and sidewalks. She couldn’t see any reason why she couldn’t go directly to the cabin.
She stood and walked over to the window. Outside, everything seemed normal. People were sitting around talking and laughing. Cars were flowing in and out of the parking lot. The whole thing seemed like a bad dream, but it wasn’t. She had to leave.
After hauling the backpack onto her bed, she searched for a flashlight. She dug through a variety of gadgets and contraptions. They’d come in handy in case she got stuck overnight. She wasn’t planning on stopping once she got started. Although she’d never biked twenty miles in a row before, she had enough adrenaline pumping through her to propel her across the country if necessary. With any luck, she’d be at the cabin before midnight.
8
Luke groaned as searing pain shot down his shoulder. He cracked one eye open. Yellow wallpaper blurred and swirled before settling into view. He lay on a quilt-covered bed in a room he didn’t recognize. As he tried to sit up, lighting-sharp pain fired along the nerves in his arm.
“He’s awake.” A woman’s face hovered over him.
“Give him some water,” a man said.
The woman held a blue plastic cup up to his lips. She slid her arm behind his neck and helped him tilt forward. Cool water splashed against parched lips. It trickled into his mouth, slid down the column of his throat, and pooled in his belly.
He opened his mouth wider and gulped another mouthful. When he’d finished the whole cup, his head fell back against a pillow. The synapses in his brain fired and slowly the events of the night coalesced. He was in the farmer’s house. The farmer and his wife stood over him.
“What happened?” A sour film glued his lips together.
“You saved our lives,” the farmer said.
“Are they dead?” Luke asked.
“Yes. We buried them in the backyard with a backhoe,” the farmer said. “I’m Bob. This is my wife Mary.”
“I’m Luke.” He couldn’t move his left arm, so he used his right to try to sit up. A fresh wave of molten lava burned through his nerves.
“Try to stay still,” Mary said. “The man holding Bob hostage shot you before I could shoot him. I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I forgot about the shotgun we keep in the closet in our spare bedroom.”
“Better late than never,” Luke said with a grimace. “How long was I out?”
“About six hours,” Bob said.
Luke turned toward the window. White lace curtains covered most of it, but plenty of sunlight shone through. It had to be noon, at least. Maybe later.
“What time is it?” Luke asked.
“Almost one p.m.” Bob pulled a wooden chair next to the bed. As he settled his barrel-chested frame into the chair, denim coveralls and a white T-shirt shifted around his bulk. He regarded Luke with steely gray eyes. A large gray beard covered his weather-beaten skin. Balding on top, he’d cropped his remaining hair short. “Now I don’t want to get into it with you, but what were you doing in my house?”
Luke had no doubt the man could see right through a lie, so he went with the truth.
“I was passing through the orchard when a pickup truck full of men stopped a few yards away. It was dark so they didn’t see me. I heard them planning to attack your family, so I waited until they’d split up before heading inside.”
“How did you get in?” Mary asked.
“Same way they did. You left a window unlocked.”
“Dammit, Mary. How many times have I told you to keep the windows locked at night?” Bob asked.
“You told me you’d checked them last night so I didn’t bother,” she said. “Don’t try blaming this on me.”
“Neither of you did anything wrong,” Luke said. “You didn’t know a gang of thugs were going to break in.”
“If I’d known, I would have been waiting at the top of the stairs with the shotgun,” Bob growled.
“Are you hungry?” Mary asked.
“Starving,” Luke said.
“I’ll get you some stew.”
After she left the room, Bob stood and paced at the end of the bed.
“The whole world’s gone to shit ever since the bombs dropped,” he said. “I thought we’d be safe on the farm, but last night we found people trying to raid the fields. We already sold off our crops for the season, but it didn’t stop thieves from trying to break into our almond stores. I rigged up a bunch of tripwire and flares around the barn. I don’t know how well it’s going to work, but I had to try something. Things are only going to get worse as people start to realize how dependent we are on outside food supplies.
Sure, we’re surrounded by farms, but the harvest is over. Whatever’s left in the fields will be rotten within a month.”
“You might want to move all of the food into the house,” Luke said. “Easier to guard it.”
“Good point.” Bob stopped at the window. He moved the curtain aside and looked out. “I tried to find your vehicle. I found the pickup those guys came in, but nothing else.”
“I was on foot.”
“Why?”
“Ran into a militia up the road. They took my truck.”
“Sons of bitches,” Bob said.
“I’m trying to get home to my family. I was on a business trip in San Jose when San Francisco was hit.”
“Where’s home?”
“Orange County.”
“That’s a good three hundred miles from here,” Bob said.
“I know.”
“And you were heading out on foot?”
“I didn’t have a choice. I can’t leave them alone,” Luke said. The pain of knowing that he was so far away from his family hit him in the gut. When he tried to move, his shoulder screamed. “How bad is it?”
“Nicked the outer edge of your shoulder. Bit off a chunk of flesh, but you’re one lucky sonofabitch. It didn’t hit any bone. No arteries. It was only a .22.”
“A .22? I never saw it,” Luke said.
“It was mine. Walther P22. Kept it on the nightstand. He found it. You’re lucky he missed bone. You were bleeding like a stuck pig, but Mary patched you up.”
“Stitches?”
“Five.” Mary walked in with a large, steaming bowl of stew. “Nothing fancy, but you’ll live. They’ll need to be cut out in about a week.”
“It hurts like hell.” Luke used his good arm to pull himself into a seated position.
“Well, you were shot,” Mary said with a slight smirk. “Eat up before it gets cold.”
The first mouthful of stew tasted better than a lobster and steak dinner. Perfectly seasoned with just the right mix of meat and potatoes, he couldn’t shovel it into his mouth fast enough. Who knew when he’d get another meal like this. He’d have to eat up while he could.
“I’ll be gone by nightfall,” Luke said between bites.
“You’re staying the night with us,” Mary said. “You shouldn’t be outside after dark. It’s not safe.”