The Hunted

by Matt De La Peña

  In an abandoned sulfur pool movie stars used to soak themselves in.

  They leaned in at the same time, and when their lips touched, Shy was lost. His fingers tracing the Muppet quote on her stomach, like he’d always wanted to. The pool dissolving into microscopic particles that swirled around them, like a whirlpool, then morphed into thousands of tiny hands that lifted Shy and Carmen up above the dilapidated resort, above the mountaintops, above the birds measuring the sky with their wings, and all the living creatures of the earth spoke to him.

  You’re lost, they said.

  You’re broken and alone.

  But you’re still here with us, and it’s a gift.

  All life is one life.

  46

  The Ring

  It was over in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

  Shy watched Carmen climb out of the pool and dry off with the towel she’d brought with her. Then he watched her step back into her jeans and pull her shirt over her head, the material quickly falling over her Muppet tattoo.

  He felt like apologizing, he didn’t even know why.

  Instead, he stepped out of the pool and took the towel she was holding out for him. As he began drying off, he cleared his throat and said: “Hey, Carm. You okay with everything?”

  She smiled. “Of course I’m okay, Shy.”

  “I just mean…So you’re not gonna write out new rules or anything?”

  She laughed a little—which struck Shy as a good sign. “Oh, I’m sure there’ll eventually be new rules. I’ll let you know when I figure them out.” She looked past Shy, toward the trail. “But, hey, the sun’s about to set. We should probably go find Shoe.”

  “Definitely,” he said.

  She took a couple steps forward and kissed him on the lips. It was a short kiss, but it lifted a huge weight off Shy’s shoulders. “Hurry up and get dressed,” she told him.

  As he was zipping up his jeans a thought occurred to him: the ring.

  He pulled it out of his pocket and held it out to her, excitedly. It took her a few seconds to notice what he was holding, but when she did, she froze. And her face shifted into a slight frown.

  Shy cleared his throat. “Look, it doesn’t mean anything, okay? I promise. I know you already got someone. But since the day I got this thing…I always thought you should have it.”

  Carmen backed away a little, shaking her head. “But it does mean something, Shy. You know it does.”

  “I’m not even saying for you to wear it,” Shy told her. “Put it in a drawer somewhere. When all this is over. Dude, take it to a pawnshop. Whatever you want.”

  Carmen looked up at the sky and yanked at her wet hair. “God, Shy, I love that you think so highly of me.” Her eyes fell on his again. “But I don’t deserve it.”

  “Says who?” Shy said.

  “Anyone who could’ve seen what we just did. What I just did.” She shook her head. “Listen, I could never accept that ring, okay? Not until I find out for sure about Brett.”

  Shy lowered the ring, ashamed.

  He’d never felt so small in his life. Like he might disappear into thin air. “But no one else would even know,” he argued.

  “I’ll know.”

  Shy slipped the ring back in his pocket, trying to act like it was no big deal, like they could just move on and go find Shoeshine and continue on their stupid trip. But secretly he was crushed. One of the best moments of his life, being with Carmen, now felt like one of the worst moments of his life. She wouldn’t even take his ring as just friends.

  He turned away from her and started drying his floppy hair, ignoring the egg smell embedded into the towel.

  “Come on, Shy,” Carmen pleaded. “I know how I sound to you right now, but symbols like that still mean something—” She stopped abruptly and spun around to the dense stretch of trees behind them.

  Shy heard it, too.

  The sound of footsteps and snapping branches.

  “Shy!” a distant voice called out. “Shy, you there?”

  Shy could sense Carmen staring at him, but he couldn’t look at her. Not yet.

  “Shy!” The voice sounded closer now. And he was able to make out who it was. Dale.

  “Yeah!” Shy called back.

  In a few seconds Dale pushed through the overgrown tree limbs, followed by Tommy. Both of them out of breath. Dale looked at Shy, then Carmen. He seemed like he was hopped up on meds or something.

  “What is it?” Shy asked.

  “It was just on the radio,” Dale said between breaths. “DJ Dan. We were listening and—”

  “He made an announcement,” Tommy said.

  Dale nodded, excitedly. “It’s all over.”

  “What’s all over?” Shy asked.

  “Everything,” Dale said. “What’s happening to California.”

  This time Shy did look at Carmen. She had her hands on her hips, her face frozen in a frown. “What are you talking about?” she said.

  “This one drug company,” Dale explained, pausing to suck in another breath, “according to the DJ, they found a cure for Romero Disease. A pill. The epidemic is over.”

  “Shut up,” Carmen said.

  Tommy nodded. “Swear to God.”

  Dale gave Tommy an awkward high five and turned back to Shy. “Tomorrow they’re gonna start passing the pills out to everyone in California.”

  Shy’s whole body went numb.

  He and Carmen stared at each other.

  “It’s amazing news, right?” Dale said. He laughed and shook his head. “These people…they’re heroes. They saved all of our lives.”

  “You don’t happen to remember the name of this company, do you?” Shy asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

  “Of course I do,” Dale barked. “I wrote it down as soon as I heard it. They’re called LasoTech.”

  47

  Reports from the Wreckage

  DJ DAN: …estimating that the total number of deaths due to Romero Disease is now more than triple the number attributed to the earthquakes. Which is why last night’s announcement is so critical. New details continue trickling in, and we’ll update this story throughout the coming days, but here’s what we know as of right now:

  A pharmaceutical company called LasoTech has developed a new medication to treat the disease. If taken once daily, for twenty-one consecutive days, this medication not only treats the symptoms—as first reported—it cures the disease.

  LasoTech founder Jim Miller said in a press release this morning that his team began working on the new drug well before the earthquakes. LasoTech was also the first company to fund research on the disease back when it was only affecting a few poor neighborhoods near the Mexican border. When its offshore lab flooded, however, they lost over fifty percent of their work. Looters destroyed the rest. So they had to start from scratch. Even the president of the United States has acknowledged LasoTech’s perseverance. He has asked Congress to work directly with Mr. Miller to distribute the medication across the West Coast in the coming weeks. Mr. Miller also revealed in his press release that he has personally sponsored several crusader groups for the past several weeks. These groups have provided food and water and medical supplies and sometimes even transportation through the desert.

  LasoTech and several other pharmaceutical companies are now hard at work trying to come up with a vaccine that will protect the uninfected. We’re told that only then will the president take down the border protecting the rest of the country. So for now, at least, the travel ban continues.

  Meanwhile, many have resorted to extreme isolation in order to avoid contact with the infected. The walls protecting the most well-known safe haven, the Sony lots, may have fallen yesterday, but others still remain. Residents of Coronado, a small island off the coast of San Diego, have managed to destroy a portion of the bridge connecting the island to the city, cutting themselves off from the rest of the population. The Strand, the only other way to get onto the island, is now completely u
nderwater.

  A large community of yachts has come together a few miles off the coast of Santa Barbara. People move from boat to boat and live off seaweed and whatever fish they catch. They have no access to government drops, and drinking water is scarce, but they refuse to come back to the mainland for fear of the disease.

  One of the largest isolated populations is a tent community deep in the California desert. Over five thousand people are now gathered together in the scorching heat. They have access to weekly drops, but they’ve also managed to tap wells and erect greenhouses where they harvest crops like radishes and spinach.

  The most surprising of the isolated communities has to be state penitentiaries like San Quentin and Pelican Bay. We’ve heard that Avenal State Prison now boasts a population of over ten thousand. Prisoners who once longed to escape their cell walls now guard the perimeter of the prison, making sure no one sneaks in….

  Day 50

  48

  Today Versus Tomorrow

  They were five miles west of Indio when the old-school gas gauge officially inched into the red. Shy stared at it for a few seconds, discouraged, before peering through the back window of the vintage ride Mario had insisted they take. It was a cherried-out 1953 Buick Skylark convertible, Mario’s pride and joy, according to Dale and Tommy. The man had tossed Shoeshine the keys during the big goodbye scene, telling him: “I don’t know where you all are going, but if you’re involved, I trust it’s somewhere important. Might as well get there in style.”

  Now here they were, creeping east on the 10 Freeway in the dark. Headlights off to keep a low profile. Shy and Carmen were supposed to be looking for a gas station off the freeway—no matter what condition it was in—but Shy’s mind was still stuck on the news.

  LasoTech had saved the day.

  LasoTech was now working directly with the government, and Jim Miller, Addie’s asshole dad, was being celebrated as some kind of hero.

  The shit made Shy want to vomit.

  Or break something.

  The shadowy landscape had become more mountainous outside of San Bernardino. Shrubs were scattered along the shoulder. Power lines dipped and rose and dipped again. They had all the car windows down and the air smelled like dust and clay and fire and Carmen’s wild hair, which blew into Shy’s face from the front seat, constantly reminding him of the sulfur pool.

  And how was Shy supposed to process those two competing emotions? Rage against an evil company and nervous excitement about a girl. Woman! It was like trying to push together the plus sides on two bar magnets.

  Shy moved Dale’s spare radio from his lap onto his right knee and tried to focus in spite of the classical music the DJ had been playing for the last few hours.

  “Is that one up there?” Carmen said, pointing through the windshield.

  Shy could vaguely make out a sign about a half-mile in the distance. But he didn’t see an actual gas station.

  Shoeshine peered into the rearview mirror before taking the next off-ramp.

  There was a gas station all right, but it had been reduced to a charred pile of rubble. Shy counted six big holes in the ground where the pumps must have been. He wondered if the underground tanks had exploded in the fire.

  Shoeshine parked the Skylark across the street and cut the engine, and the three of them stared at the debris.

  “Be back in a minute,” Shoeshine said, climbing awkwardly out of the driver’s seat.

  “Wait, where you going?” Shy said, suddenly nervous to be alone with Carmen.

  The man stuck his head back in his window. “Sometimes an old man like myself has to relieve himself, young fella. It’s a prostate thing. You’ll get there one day.”

  “Oh.” Shy watched Shoeshine limp away, relying heavily on his walking stick. There was no way the man would make it anywhere without the Skylark. They had to find gas.

  Shy took a deep breath and focused on the back of Carmen’s head. “Hey, Carm. I wanted to apologize about what happened back at—”

  “Look,” Carmen said, spinning around to face him, “I’ve been thinking about this since we left. If anyone should be apologizing it’s me, okay? I just…I couldn’t fight it anymore. And I know that doesn’t say much about me, right? But when you took out that ring—”

  “That’s what I’m talking about, though,” Shy said. “I don’t even know why I did that.” He fingered the ring in his pocket, feeling encouraged. If Carmen said she couldn’t fight it, then it meant she was drawn to him, too. It wasn’t all in his head. “But here’s what I wanted to tell you,” he continued. “I know you got someone, all right? And I know as soon as we get to Arizona—”

  “If we get to Arizona.”

  “Exactly. If we get to Arizona. I know you’re gonna start looking for the dude. And I respect that. For real. But look at shit, Carm.” He pointed at the gas station, which was barely visible in the dark. “Everything’s different now. People are dropping like flies. They’re hiding out in prisons. I’m not worried about tomorrow right now. I’m worried about today.”

  Carmen nodded a little and kept looking at him. “That’s actually a pretty smart way to say what I’ve been feeling, Sancho.” She turned around farther so she could look him directly in the eyes. “I’m not claiming it’s right, but who decides that shit now anyway? Right and wrong. Everything’s changed.”

  Before Shy could respond, he heard a loud retching sound in the dark somewhere. He couldn’t see anything outside his window, though. “Damn.”

  “Sounded like Shoe,” Carmen said. “You think we should go look for him?”

  Shy nodded and reached into the duffel for the flashlight Dale had given him. But as soon as he opened his door, there was Shoeshine, walking through the dark toward them. Shy followed the man with his eyes as he went around the front of the Skylark and climbed back into the driver’s seat.

  “You okay?” Carmen asked.

  Shoeshine turned to her. “Who, me?”

  “Sounded like you just got sick out there,” Shy said from the backseat.

  Shoeshine craned his neck to look at Shy. “Believe you got the wrong black man, young fella.”

  Shy and Carmen shared a frown as Shoeshine turned the key in the ignition. The man was definitely trying hide how bad off he was. Shy remembered the pus he’d seen on Shoeshine’s wound.

  The engine turned over several times before finally catching and roaring back to life. Shoeshine studied his mirrors for an unusually long time before pulling back onto the road.

  49

  The Rifle Bag

  They were running on fumes by the time Shy pointed out the next gas station. Shoeshine pulled off the freeway and coasted up the off-ramp, then steered them over a narrow bridge, onto the north side of the freeway.

  “There,” Carmen said, pointing through the dark at a small empty parking lot beside the boarded-up gas station.

  Shoeshine pulled into one of the stalls and shut off the engine. “She’s not gonna move from this spot unless we get her some gas.”

  Shy counted four pumps this time, all covered in caution tape. A dented pickup truck was parked next to the station, like there might be someone staying there. “So how’s this supposed to work anyway?” he asked. “You can’t pump gas without power, right?”

  “We need to find something we can use as a siphon,” Shoeshine answered, distracted. He was staring back at the bridge they’d just crossed. Shy followed Shoeshine’s gaze. But it was just an ordinary overpass. As far as he could tell, there was nothing else there.

  After a few seconds, Shoeshine turned to Shy and Carmen. “If there’s gas left, there’s gonna be someone claiming it. So keep your eyes open.” He grabbed the duffel and pushed open the driver’s-side door.

  Shy pulled the rifle bag onto his lap.

  “Wait,” Carmen said. “So we’re just gonna, like, knock? It’s the middle of the night.”

  Movement in the shadows made Shy freeze. Two hooded figures were standing in front of the
door to the station, aiming handguns at the Skylark. “Guess we don’t have to worry about the knocking part,” he said.

  One of the figures held up a megaphone. “Get out of the car with your hands up,” he announced in a high-pitched, muffled voice. “And do it slow.”

  Shoeshine stepped out first, still holding the duffel, and raised his hands.

  Shy and Carmen shared a look. “I think they’re just kids,” he told her.

  “Still,” Carmen said. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  But they had no choice. They were out of gas. Shy stashed the rifle bag by his feet and stepped out of the car, raising his hands. Carmen did the same.

  The two figures approached cautiously.

  When they were just a few steps away, Shy saw under their hoods. He was right. Two kids in hospital masks. Twelve or thirteen, tops. No shoes. It made him feel a little better, though there were still two guns in his face.

  The shorter kid took the megaphone from the bigger one. “You’re not allowed to be on the road this late. We could shoot you right here and nobody would even care.”

  The taller kid snatched back the megaphone and whacked the other kid on the side of the head. “They’re right in front of us, stupid. You can talk regular now.”

  The shorter kid rubbed his head through his hood and glared at his friend.

  “We just need some gas,” Carmen said.

  “You and everyone else,” the taller kid said. “But we claimed this station right after the earthquakes. Paulie’s dad used to work here.”

  “Exactly,” the shorter one said.

  “So if you want gas,” the taller one went on, “you gotta trade something.”

  “What are you looking for?” Shoeshine said.

  “Weapons,” Paulie said.

  Shoeshine looked at Shy, then looked into the back of the car. He was signaling for Shy to grab the rifle bag. Shy shot back his best “are you crazy?” look. There was no way they were going to get past LasoTech security without a way to defend themselves. Shoeshine had said so himself. It was the whole reason they’d stopped in San Bernardino.