As the man got closer, he and I began to do the dance. He eyed me, I eyed him. He held his shotgun in both hands, I held my rifle in both hands. He pointed his gun in my general direction, I did the same with the rifle.
As he reached a distance where a perfunctory greeting was in order, the man called, “Good morning.” He was maybe 5’-9”, about 175 pounds, with light brown hair and a slight beard. He was probably in his early thirties and he seemed to be in good physical shape. I was almost certain he had seen Emma giving me a blowjob. When he got a little closer, the shit-eating grin on his face confirmed it.
“Morning,” I said.
Unfortunately, he mistook that for an invitation. He altered his course and started heading straight for us. I tightened my grip on the rifle. I felt like shooting the dickhead just for interrupting us. I could see he was looking more at Emma than at me. He carried the shotgun a little looser now, in one hand with the barrel pointing down. I sighed. I felt like saying, ‘No, asshole, she’s not giving out free blowjobs.’ What he should have done was pretend not to see us and walk on by. Instead, here he was standing right in front of us. My erection had wilted and I felt a good case of blue balls coming on.
He gestured to the gas station and asked, “Anything left inside?”
I shook my head. “You can have a look for yourself if you like, but we didn’t find a thing.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He extended a hand. “Barry Miller.”
“Steen O’Mannon.”
He turned his attention to Emma and repeated, “I’m Barry.”
She awkwardly shook his hand. “Emma.”
Barry asked, “So what are you two doing here?”
Fucker. Like he didn’t know. He knew exactly what we were doing. I replied, “Just…you know, trying to survive.”
He hooked a thumb and said, “You been through that whackadoodle town back there?”
“No,” I lied. It occurred to me that he could be an envoy sent from the town to try and find us.
“You headed towards the city then?” he asked.
“No, away from it. We bypassed the town.”
“How’d you do that?”
“Through the woods.” My story was getting a little unbelievable, but I was stuck with it now. I couldn’t tell him we were headed into the city, that would be stupid. And we sure as hell didn’t live at the gas station. I asked, “What about you?”
“They escorted me through. A posse of men met me at the city line. They took my gun and walked me across town. Then they gave it back to me and told me not to come back.”
He’d certainly received better treatment than we had.
Barry regarded Emma. “You’re such a young thing, and pretty too.”
She blushed and said, “Thank you.”
Now I had seen everything. Emma blushing. I would not have believed it possible.
Barry said, “And you’re packing heat, too.”
She turned and stuck out her ass. “Yep, sure am.”
He added, “And I’m not just talking about the gun.”
She laughed.
Wasn’t this wonderful? Watching this dickhead flirt with Emma right in front of me. “Well,” I said, “you’re probably anxious to get to where you’re going. Don’t let us keep you.”
“No problem,” Barry said. “Hey, I was thinking. If we’re headed in the same direction, maybe you two would like to tag along with me.”
Now he was really pissing me off. Tag along with you? Some jackoff who looked like he was on his way to go duck hunting? Here I was decked out in full body armor with an assault rifle and he had the nerve to ask if I wanted to tag along with him. I rotated my neck and took a deep breath. “Barry, we’ve managed pretty well so far. Appreciate the offer, though.”
He wasn’t giving up. “Oh yeah? How so? Where’d you come from?”
“Ground zero.”
“Impossible.”
“Not when you’re in a fallout shelter.”
“How’d you get here?”
“Walked.”
“What about the radiation?”
“I spent a week in the shelter, then I set out on foot in a Tyvek suit and a gas mask.”
“No shit?”
“That’s a fact.”
“Damn.”
We stared at one another for a moment. Then to feign politeness, I asked, “What about you? Where’d you come from?”
“I live west of the city,” he replied. “I stayed home until I ran out of food. The stores ran out of everything and people started looting. I figured I’d better get out of there while I still could.”
“Steen,” Emma said. “It might be nice to have some company. Maybe Barry can help with the food situation.” She smiled at me. “What do you say? Can he come with us?”
I looked at Emma and then at Barry. Against my better judgment, I heard myself say, “Sure, why not?”
Emma and I gathered our things. There was still some snake left so I wrapped it in plastic and put it in my bag. I can’t say I was thrilled about Barry coming with us. True, there is safety in numbers. But this far out the threat had significantly diminished. Plus, there’s the concept of two’s company, three’s a crowd. That’s what I was really feeling. I felt jealous, disrespected, and intruded upon. Once in a lifetime I manage to hook up with a nymphomaniac teenage girl – someone who regarded fucking and sucking and playing with herself as just everyday things – and this jerkwad has to come along and ruins it. I wasn’t so naïve as to not know why he wanted to join us. He’d been drooling over Emma since the moment he laid eyes on her. It didn’t help that her barely-there shirt looked like it might lose the battle with her breasts at any moment.
As we began walking, we exchanged typical get-to-know-you banter. Where are you from, what do you do, and so on. Emma and I shared our stories with Barry and he told us his. He was a musician, graduated with a bachelor’s degree in music, tried teaching high school but didn’t like it, now he played in a country band and worked at a music store. He was 29 years old, a Florida-native, he had never married and he had no children. ‘None that I know of at least.’ Yuck, yuck, yuck. Like no one’s ever heard that one before. He liked to hunt and fish. Whatever. Emma seemed interested, I was busy hoping he’d spontaneously combust.
After we’d put probably six or eight miles behind us, we agreed to stop and eat lunch.
“You want to just sit in the grass?” Barry suggested.
“Sure,” Emma agreed. “It will be like we’re having a picnic.”
I didn’t argue. We were so far out in the boonies that there was literally nothing. No stores or gas stations, just the occasional farmhouse. Barry headed for a clearing on the side of the road and Emma and I followed. We sat under the shade of an old oak tree.
I took off my backpack and removed the leftover snake. I offered it to Emma.
She crinkled her nose and said, “What else you got?”
“Soup, beans, and potted meat.”
“What’s potted meat?”
“I don’t know.”
Barry shuffled through his backpack and said, “I’ve got some beef jerky you’re welcome to.”
I started in on the snake while Emma and Barry shared his beef jerky.
“Oh, God,” Emma exclaimed. “It feels so good to get off my feet.”
“Yeah,” Barry laughed. “So…I’ve been meaning to ask you. How did you two meet?”
I said, “Emma asked if she could accompany me and I agreed.”
Barry looked at Emma. “Oh, so you two are just— This is just since the bomb.”
Emma nodded.
“Did your parents approve?”
“I don’t have ‘parents.’” Air quotes for emphasis. “I’ve never had a dad, and my mom is a total bitch.”
Barry quietly said, “Oh.”
I could see Barry doing the math in his head. Runaway teen + daddy issues = easy whore
. I couldn’t argue.
After lunch we resumed walking. A brief afternoon thunderstorm rolled in and we had to sit it out in an old dilapidated barn. As nightfall approached, Barry spotted a shed and thought it would make a good place to spend the night.
As we walked the dirt road that led to the shed, Emma asked, “You think this place is safe?”
“It’ll be alright,” Barry said. “I’ve slept in worse.”
The door was constructed of the same material as the shed: wood siding, only arranged in a vertical pattern. It was more of a gate, really. Barry pulled on it and insisted he go in first. He stepped through the doorway with his shotgun in one hand and a flashlight in the other. A moment later he reemerged and smiled at Emma. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”
She giggled and stepped inside. Reluctantly, I followed. The shed was hot and musty inside. It looked like it had been used to store cattle feed. There was hay and kernels of corn all over the dirt floor. I wondered about rats and snakes. I would have much preferred sleeping outside. I got out of my gear and leaned my rifle against the wall.
We ate dinner by the light of Barry’s battery-powered lantern. Barry again shared a meal with Emma while I decided to unravel the mystery of potted meat. The can was filled with a reddish-brown paste that smelled and tasted like meat, only it wasn’t very good. I suppose if I’d had some crackers to spread it on it might not have been too bad, but I was fresh out.
After dinner Emma begged Barry to sing. He feigned modesty then allowed himself to be persuaded. He sang a song about a woman who’d left him and something about a pickup truck. He was pretty good actually, hitting every note acapella.
After Barry finished Emma was beside herself. She cooed, “Wow, that was so amazing.”
“Not bad,” I said. “Excuse me while I visit the men’s room.”
I stepped outside into the cool night air. As I stood there and did my business, I could hear Emma and Barry through the thin shed walls. They were talking in hushed tones so I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I heard girlish laughter and then silence. I finished and headed back inside. When I opened the door, Barry and Emma were locked in an embrace. I stood there for a second in shock. They were kissing passionately and were clearly oblivious to my presence. I eyed my rifle and knew what I had to do.
Chapter 31
I have always enjoyed solitude, it’s never been a problem for me. Some people go nuts when they’re alone, but I often prefer it. Given the choice of being in a crowd or being alone, I’d choose solitude every time.
I can’t say I was surprised, Emma’s attention had been focused on Barry all day long. She was clearly enamored with him. I had no delusion that Emma was sleeping with me because I was the perfect man for her; I was almost 30 years her senior. She was sleeping with me because she’s a slut and I was the only man around. Barry was much closer to her age and better suited to her anyway. Besides, it hadn’t felt right. I felt like I was taking advantage of her, like I was robbing the cradle.
I’d thought about saying goodbye, but they seemed pretty preoccupied at the moment. Barry is a complete asshole. He just barged in and stole the girl, without an ounce of remorse. He certainly deserved a good beating, but what would that accomplish? Besides, it would piss off Emma. Better to stay on her good side since she’d seen me commit numerous capital felonies. Maybe she was hoping for a three-way. Sorry, not interested. Anyway, it was over now.
I felt cheated and betrayed. Stupid, I know. Emma and I had known each other for what? A couple of days? Beyond idiotic to feel that way, yet I did. Sometimes things happen in life and it makes you react more intensely than it should. Out of proportion, clearly an overreaction. ‘Psychological triggers’ they’re called. Unresolved feelings from your past that surface when something similar happens. Suddenly I felt the pain of everyone who’d ever left me. As I walked down that dirt path alone, I cried.
God, I told myself, get a hold of yourself you fucking pussy. Get your shit together.
I decided to walk for a while, put some distance between myself and them. I certainly didn’t want to run into them tomorrow. When I reached the end of the path a crazy idea hit me. Instead of turning left and continuing down the road, I decided to turn right and head back where I came from. It was the surest way I’d never see Emma or Barry again.
As I walked, I felt a little foolish. I was essentially undoing what I’d spent all day doing. Oh well, it was just a day. The average person gets 30,000 of them. What was just one day? I had survived and that’s what really mattered. Every day I survived I was one day closer to when life would return to normal.
Besides, earlier in the day I had consulted my map. I knew there wasn’t another town in the direction we’d been travelling for over thirty miles. At least I knew this way there was a town within a day’s walk. What was I going to do when I got there? About the men standing guard? I’d figure it out later.
I walked a couple of hours in total darkness. When I got tired, I used the light to search alongside the road for a clearing. I came to a gated entrance to someone’s property and decided that would suffice. I stretched out beside the gate and rested my head on my backpack.
***
The next morning I awoke at the crack of dawn, I hadn’t slept well at all. I sat up and enjoyed a moment of ignorant bliss while my brain rebooted. Once it did, the memories from the night before came rushing back.
Breakfast was the last can of beans, a vitamin, and a potassium iodide tablet. I readied myself for the long day ahead. Despite the fact that I hadn’t slept well, I felt strangely energized. Maybe it was because I hadn’t wasted all my energy fucking Emma’s brains out. Or maybe it was because the whole thing was behind me now. Resolution can be invigorating to both body and spirit.
I walked all day in the unforgiving heat, stopping only for lunch which was the last can of soup. I saw nary a soul along the way. As evening approached, I knew judging by the road signs the little town was drawing near. The terrain looked familiar. I recognized it as the place Emma and I had dumped the weapons. I decided it was time to take a little detour through the woods. I cut a path through the dense underbrush, trying to be quiet.
After a while using my binoculars I spotted the men standing guard on the city line. There were four of them. I redoubled my efforts to be quiet as I picked my way through the woods. When I got within about 75 yards I stopped. Steadying myself against a tree, I studied the men through my scope. They were just sitting around, talking. I thought I recognized a couple of them. Their guns were lying at their feet. I concentrated on holding the crosshairs steady on each man’s head. Then I practiced moving from one to another. I put the rifle down and sat back against the tree.
What was my motivation here? I had the skill, but did I have the will? I thought about it for a minute. These men had tied my hands behind my back and run me out of town at gunpoint. They had taken my guns and supplies knowing full well that I’d probably die out here without them. They said they would shoot me if I ever came back again. What else? The soup I’d eaten for lunch was the last food I had. Thin, cold, watery, chicken noodle soup. I was hungry again five minutes after I’d eaten it. And that was hours ago.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I got back on my feet again. I practiced quickly moving the crosshairs again from one head to the next. I did it several times. Then I moved back to the first man. Only this time it wasn’t practice. I took a deep breath. The scope was about to pay for itself. I steadied the rifle and let my finger rest on the trigger. Slowly I began to pull. ‘Let it surprise you,’ I could hear my firearms instructor say.
I continued the steady pull on the trigger until suddenly it did surprise me. The rifle exploded. Head shot. I quickly moved to the next man and fired. Head shot. I moved again but by this time the remaining two men had reacted. The man closest to me was leaning over picking up his gun. I aimed for center of mass and fired. The other man jumped to his feet and began runnin
g. Then things got kind of messy. I fired four shots at the man running and he fell headlong to the street. I swung the gun back the other way and fired four more shots at the other man. He appeared to be dead, but the runner was still alive. He was on his belly desperately pulling himself with his arms. I led him by a foot. As soon as he entered the crosshairs, he got a double tap to the head. I lowered the rifle and allowed myself to breathe.
As I approached the men I took in the scene. What a fucking mess. The first man was still sitting in his chair, part of his head missing. There was blood all over the place. The second man had fallen out of his chair and was lying on his face. His head was ringed by a large pool of blood. The third man was on his side clutching his chest. His eyes were still open but he wasn’t breathing. The fourth man looked like his head exploded. There were brains and blood all over the place.
The men had brought some supplies with them. I went through their bags and emptied them of their contents. I scored a couple of sandwiches, a bag of chips, some soda and a six pack. As I chugged a can of warm beer, for some reason Billy Johnson came to mind. In the second grade he amazed us with the ability to talk while he belched. I finished the beer and tossed the empty can on the body next to me. As I did, I belched, “Fuck you very much.”
I hadn’t gotten far before I heard the siren. I took up a position alongside the road and waited. A minute later I could see the blue and red flashing lights. I watched through the scope as the car approached. As it drew nearer I could see the driver. He was alone. The siren got louder as the car closed in on me.
Chapter 32
Despite the fact that the police car was travelling at a high rate of speed, it was coming straight at me and presented an easy target. The policeman’s head grew larger and larger in the scope and the crosshairs were trained right on the center of his face. Without any further hesitation I took the shot. I lowered the rifle and waited. The car kept coming. Had I missed? How could I have missed? Had the windshield altered the bullet’s trajectory? Was the windshield bulletproof? Then it happened. The car began to drift off course. It crashed at full speed into a large group of trees and burst into flames.
How to Survive a Nuclear War Page 17