I guess he did have one more shell hidden in that house.
35
As they approached Lisa's house, her crying finally subsided. She had spent a solid ten minutes trying to race back to the farmhouse after the shot. David firmly and patiently held her until the acceptance set in, then he gently guided her to a soft piece of grass and let her collapse in tears. She didn't know how long she lied there, but he never once tried to rush her. Although he wouldn't show it, she suspected he was grieving terribly in his own way.
It was odd, really, to feel such a loss over the suicide of a man whom you had tied up after he shot your friend not so long ago. We didn't even know his name. There was more to it, though. Everyone they had met in this new world was trying to kill them. This man had broken that streak--after that first shooting thing--and now he was gone, and the world wanted them dead again.
Lisa had not seen or heard anyone else in her hometown, and most of the structures had burned beyond recognition by now. The situation did not leave her high hopes for her own house.
Picking up the pace as dusk fell, the nurse wanted to reach home before dark. David easily kept up, seeming to sense her impatience and disregarding an injured leg that must have still hurt.
"How much farther?" he asked.
"Around that corner and down about a quarter mile. If it's still there, of course."
She turned the corner at the diner--or what used to be the diner--and her heart leapt at the distant sight of her tiny little bungalow. From afar there didn't seem to be too much damage, and the fact that it wasn't in flames struck her as a good thing.
Reaching her front lawn, she realized that she had been running. Behind her, David limped quickly along with a grin almost matching her own.
"How is it?" he asked as he joined her on her front lawn.
Lisa surveyed the property in the rapidly fading light. Her porch swing had fallen from its hooks, and an upstairs window was cracked, but overall the classic white exterior looked like it survived.
"I'm home," she finally replied.
"Miss Brittsen," David spoke solemnly, "I know we just met, but, do you think I could spend the night?"
36
David couldn't resist smiling as the nurse laughed infectiously at his question. It stood as a testament to how crazy the last two days had been that it was even considered a joke. For what had to be the billionth time he thought of how different their relationship had been just 48 hours ago. It's funny how much iron bars in the middle can distort your view of a person.
Lisa finally contained her laughter and assumed a poorly acted scolding tone. "Not until you quit calling me 'Miss Brittsen!'"
Whether it was the command or the horrid attempt at being serious they may never know, but one of those things sent them both back into peals of hysterical laughter that ended with both of them lying in the dry grass. Catching his breath while staring up at the stars, David let the feeling of being free wash over him.
"You know what the best part of being home is?" Lisa asked from somewhere in the ocean of grass.
"If you say satellite television, I think you're going to be sorely disappointed. I saw your dish in your neighbors pool."
Lisa chuckled before she realized he was serious. "That stinks. But no, I had a better answer."
"Okay, you have my rapt attention. What is it, Miss Brittsen?" he asked with added emphasis on her name.
"Two things. First, how you're not getting in until you learn my name. And second, the best part."
Lisa paused for effect. "Food."
"Time to head inside," David said as he leapt to his feet and offered his hand to help her up. "Lead the way, Lisa!"
Laughing again, she accepted his hand and got to her feet. David followed the young nurse into the dark house, for a short time forgetting all their troubles.
Brittsen moved slowly but confidently through her home, only occasionally tripping over objects strewn about by whatever had destroyed the prison and most of Santa Maria. She led him through to the kitchen, where she dug out some candles made more for romantic dinners than for emergencies. As she lit them, David could see they were unused.
In the meager light, he insisted on a quick tour to make sure no one else was squatting in the house. Confident that they were alone, he let Lisa lead him back to the living room where she flopped gracelessly onto the couch while he settled into a plush recliner. After years of thin mattresses, hard plastic chairs, and stainless steel benches; this could have been heaven.
"So what do you think?" Lisa asked. "Sorry for the mess, I wasn't expecting company--or the end of the world."
"Well, it's a little more spacious than I'm used to, but otherwise it's nice."
"Yeah, I apologize. I'll pull my junk out of the hall closet so you can get back to your comfort zone."
"Maybe cut a little hole in the door for me to see through?"
"Nope, I've always thought that just spoiled you. I will not let this prison turn into a health spa!"
David shook his head. "I think you missed your calling, you should have been a prison guard instead of a prison nurse!"
"Are you kidding me?" she asked with a glint in her eye. "I get to stick needles in people every day! If guards hurt inmates they have to fill out paperwork, why would I want that?"
"That explains why you iced down your hands before every checkup. I thought I had frostbite on my lymph nodes last time!" David barely got the comment out before a pillow hurtled through the dark and connected with his face.
"Now that was uncalled for," he teased, "I thought you would be proud to know your cleverly devised schemes of inmate abuse were working!"
"You just wait Inmate Saul, next time you come in my clinic--" Lisa's voice broke, most likely at the realization that she wouldn't be going back to her clinic.
Silence ate at the room as David searched for any words that might take them back to the lighthearted moods they so desperately needed. He found none.
"Maybe we should get some sleep. Tomorrow we can figure out the next step."
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I'm going to bed, you get the couch." Her voice had lost the lilt he was starting to enjoy as she stood. "I'll see you in the morning. Good night, David."
"Good night, Lisa." Still searching for words to bring her smile back, he opened his mouth to tell her "sweet dreams," but she was already gone.
As David settled into the soft couch, his mind raced to make sense of the last two days events. All the signs pointed to a massive earthquake as the cause, but that didn't feel right. Having been through natural disasters before, he knew this felt different. It felt somehow deeper, as if instead of tectonic plates shifting, they had just shattered. He had also never heard of a quake in an industrialized country that was not met with a response within 48 hours.
Then there was the matter of the electronics. Why were even battery operated devices not functioning? His only guess would have been a massive electromagnetic pulse, but to the best of his knowledge, those didn't occur naturally. And whatever caused it, an EMP shouldn't cause the massive ground-shaking that had occurred.
All in all, David's best assessment was that there would be no help coming. Now the question became, where should they go to find help, if it wouldn't find them?
Other issues also distressed him. Where was the Prophet's gang? How many other roving bandits would be out there by now? Luckily, the southwest was sparsely populated, which should limit the dangers. Mostly made up of small, tightly knit communities, the analyst in him said they would band together for protection rather than striking out against outsiders. He wondered if any of these groups would be willing to take in refugees. Although the life of a nomad didn't bother him too much, he doubted Lisa wanted it.
For the second time in as many days, thoughts of the nurse led him back to the family he had let get away. His ex-wife, Marta, had the same silly expressions. She could baffle him with her seemingly instantaneous transitions from sharp-minded to a
ir headed, and then make him forget what he had been confused about with the slightest curve of her lips. No one had ever made David feel so content and complete. Maybe that was why he had grown to hate her.
Marta had the patience of a saint and the face of an angel. She stayed by him through a stint in rehab, but her sapphire eyes never judged. She stood at his side while the Army turned their backs on him, but her golden hair framed a face filled only with love. Despite every stumble he made in his drunken walk through life, she never gave up on him. Like immaculately polished silver, her purity reflected the hideous beast he had become in gut-wrenching detail. But through it all, every action she took was a step toward getting help and reconciling the rifts he had caused.
Unfortunately, that kindness was more than he could take. David once considered himself an honorable man, but when faced with the truly unconditional love of his wife, he felt inferior. Desperate to gain the moral high ground, he set about the task in the easiest way possible. It is easier to find a new crowd with lower character than it is to raise your own. So the former soldier left a home filled with the brightness and warmth of family, and he entered a cold, dark underworld of dealers and addicts.
Two years after he walked out on the only good he saw in his life, Marta found him in a smoke-filled underground Washington, D.C. bar. He was so shocked to see her he let her talk for half an hour before he replied. When he did, it was a simple "no" that he would regret for the rest of her life. Her last-ditch effort rebuffed, Marta slid an envelope full of divorce papers across the table and walked out of his life.
These were the memories that chased David off to sleep. Slipping into dreams, he only knew one thing: He would not abandon Lisa Brittsen.
37
Lisa woke up staring at a blank alarm clock and almost panicked. As she bolted upright in bed, her new world came crashing back to mind. Closing her eyes, she collected her thoughts and mentally prepared herself to face another day. Getting dressed quickly, she left the bedroom in search of her house guest.
As she walked down the hall, Lisa began to question her sanity. She smelled coffee, which had to be a sign that she was finally cracking. Or power came back! Rushing into the kitchen with eyes wide, she saw David sitting at the table reading a newspaper. In front of him sat a steaming cup of coffee.
"Good morning," he said as he noticed her entering. "Hope you don't mind if I helped myself to the coffee. Can I pour you a cup?"
Lisa stood there, dumbfounded. "How did you make it?"
"Made a little fire pit in the backyard, it's not exactly gourmet."
"Better than I could have done." She had to laugh at herself for getting her hopes up. "I'll pour my own, thanks."
She filled a mug and joined him at the table. The newspaper, she now saw, was several days old. Lying her head on the table, she mumbled the first thing that came to mind.
"We forgot to eat last night."
"Some of the food in your refrigerator might still be good. How's your stock of dried goods?"
Lisa got up and checked her pantry. "I've got some granola and dried fruit, how does that sound?"
David smiled. "I think I can throw something together for us. Why don't you check the house in daylight and make sure everything is good?"
"Sounds like a plan. Help yourself to anything you can find."
While he began raiding her kitchen for breakfast, Lisa went to check the outside of the house for more damage. As she slowly made her rounds, she couldn't help but smile. The world as she knew it had collapsed, but she somehow ended up with a guardian making her breakfast. Funny how life turned out sometimes.
The external inspection turned up little news. A few more cracked windows here, a fallen gutter there, but overall her home had done very well. I wonder if my insurance company still exists? she thought idly.
Now she moved inside to do a quick inventory of her things. Although the place hadn't been ransacked, she wanted to be sure no one had looted while she was at work. Fortunately, her extensive--and some would say excessive--book collection probably wasn't a big draw with the criminal survivalist element. As a matter of fact, she soon realized that of all her possessions, only the hiking and camping equipment were of any real value anymore. Lisa silently thanked God that backpacking had been one of the hobbies she took up in her "money is no object" phase. While her frugal time gave her a cheap bass guitar and a bucket full of cheap oil paints, her outdoors gear was top quality. Collecting up the packs and other gear, she headed back to the kitchen. As the only surviving resident of Santa Maria--as far as she knew--Lisa was declaring this town officially abandoned.
38
When Lisa returned, she was carrying a good sized hiking pack that seemed to have some gear stuffed inside. David suspected that they were both thinking along the same lines; a welcome turn of events considering how much he had dreaded the conversation he expected to have.
As he brought to the table two heaping plates of everything that hadn't spoiled, his host settled into her seat with a resigned look in her eye.
"What's next?" she said simply.
David took a deep breath and thought before answering. "We need supplies before we go anywhere. Food, another pack, and whatever camping equipment we can find that you don't already have. Any place we can do one stop shopping around here?"
“If we hit Water Street we'll be able to check a pretty good assortment of shops," Lisa replied around a mouthful of pseudo-oatmeal. "There's a sporting goods store there, and a small drugstore too. The grocery store is just a few blocks down from there."
"Okay, we'll head there first. Do you know where you're heading next? Do you have family you can stay with?"
"My parents live in Midling, about a hundred miles northeast of here. I'd like to go check on them, but to be honest, I was planning on just tagging along with you wherever you went. It seems safer." She blushed slightly at the admission of dependency.
David smiled. "Don't worry about that, you going anywhere alone was never an option. After breakfast we'll head to town and gear up. Then we can come back here so you can grab any keepsakes you need. We'll spend the night here, and head out at first light."
"No. I don't want to spend any more time in this ghost town than I have to. Once we have our supplies, can we just leave from there?"
He considered the young woman carefully. She was obviously scared of their current circumstances, but she was also facing down those fears admirably. He wondered if he would have been able to walk away from his own home so resolutely if the situation were reversed. Who am I kidding? he thought soberly. Walking away is what I do best. But that was the old David. Prison had changed him, but more importantly, prisoners had changed him. He owed a debt he would never be able to repay. Now, the only path to redemption was to protect instead of harming, to endure instead of giving up. To love instead of hate.
Creepy and his friends had taken him under their wing when he gave no one any reason to have faith in him. Instead of abandoning him to his fate, they pulled him close and showed him a different future. He no longer had to rage against the world, he could see the carefully laid plans of creation all around him. Now that hell had come to earth, he needed to be that new David more than ever.
"Well?" The innocent voice broke through to his wandering mind.
"Of course. We'll leave after breakfast and never look back. Make sure you have everything you need."
"Does this mean I don't have to do dishes?"
39
Two bodies lay at his feet, one dead by his hand, the second a victim he avenged. Only by chance had the hunter been led to this unspectacular farmhouse on the edge of town nearest the ruined prison. He normally despised places like this and all they represented; manual labor was something that should be done only by criminals awaiting their cleansing. There was enough filth in the world that they should do the work for all the righteous ones--himself included. But coming down the hill in the dark, he watched a solitary and feeble torch wind its
way to the home, and felt convinced that he was being called to follow.
Upon his arrival he surprised the convict who had claimed the house. It was a man he knew; a beast he had watched eat his meals as if they were the flesh of his neighbors. Whispers in the darkness cheered when his pistol recoiled and the murderer fell to the floor. His belief in divine guidance was secure now, it could not be chance that had led him to a criminal in need of execution in a town that seemed otherwise deserted.
"I will clear the land of them. No more wasting time and energy with thoughts of impossible rehabilitation. No more wasting resources with prisons that just kill them more slowly. Yes, I know my purpose, and I will fulfill it!"
The voices were silent, reverently listening to his inspired speech. Since he was a small child he had talked to himself, not out of belief in imaginary friends, but in recognition that no one else was worthy of his company and conversation. It took years before he finally decided to tell the therapists what they wanted to hear, and they determined he would be alright after all. He spoke to himself less in those days, and blended smoothly into a society that never recognized who he really was meant to be.
Now they would know. The earth had given him the opportunity to avenge every death since Abel, and he would not disappoint. Having been called, he could do nothing but succeed. The rules were gone, he had free reign, and a thirst for blood that could only be a spiritual gift meant to drive him forward.
"I will find them all. We will all have our revenge!"
40
Although she was comforted by the knowledge that the dishes didn't need to be done, Lisa was also terrified. All her life she had dreamed of adventures like those she read about, but she was always afraid to set out for one. Now that choice had been forced upon her, and she longed for the ability to close the book and pull the covers up over her head.
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