by Holly Hook
The dust storm continued to calm down throughout the day as Alana and I suffered through another long round of Monopoly. The wind had gone to a light breeze by time we finished our final game and I declared myself the winner. Alana went to light another candle, but hesitated.
"You think it's safe to out now?" she asked. "I think it might be."
"Your optimism is coming back."
"Maybe a little."
She wasn't saying we were going to die in here, at least. I scarfed down another piece of bread and took another swig of the water. We had gone through half the loaf, trying to feed ourselves. “I'm glad,” I said. “We might be able to go out and get to the gas station. The dust might block some of the sunlight and we still have that blanket. Things might be too scary at night.”
“But it's windy,” Alana said. "I'm nervous."
“Maybe only I should go out,” I said. I hated the thought of leaving her. “I'll grab us some supplies, stuff them in a backpack, and get back here. How does that sound?”
“I thought you weren't going to go off by yourself. Remember?”
“I never said that. I just said we'd stick together in general. That I'd try that. We need food or sticking together isn't going to do us much good.” My legs trembled at the thought of going out there. “I'll be back. It's not like anyone's going to bother me on the way there. It's just around the corner.” Colton wasn't huge. I could make it there and back. “You have your backpack?”
Alana hesitated, then dug out her hot pink pack that she hadn't used since junior high. We were digging a lot of junior high stuff out here. “My other one is back at the Visitor Center,” she said. “I had no chance to grab it.”
“That's fine. Hot pink will do.”
Alana strapped the pack on me and I pulled the blanket around my body. It was thick, thick enough to block most of the sunlight. I had already done my daily ritual of rubbing sunscreen on myself. I wasn't going to get any more protected than this. “Good luck,” she said, wrapping me in a hug. “Come back.”
“I will,” I said.
“Don't leave me.”
“Wasn't planning on it.”
She opened the front door for me and the wind whipped against the blanket, but not with the intensity of last night. The storm was calming. I stepped out onto the porch and didn't get knocked over even though the blanket was still plastered to me. I could see across the street, to the outline of the house over there. The front door was open. I hadn't noticed that before.
Alana closed the door and I about freaked.
I kept just a little hole to look through. This blanket was now my only protection from the death all around me, from the UV rays that still might be penetrating the dust. I wanted to pound on the door and have her let me back in, but it was no use now. The only way to go was forward.
I walked slowly at first, making sure I knew where I was at all times. Dust tried to blow into my face, to invade, but I kept the blanket down and my face out of it. I eyed the pavement. There was dust gathered on the curb, on the sidewalks. Colton was turning into a ghost town before my eyes.
I turned down Strawberry, making sure I knew how many paces Alana's street was behind me. I counted a hundred and twenty four. So far, my skin wasn't burning. The blanket was doing its job. The stop sign waved in the wind, but held. Something large and shiny was wrapped around the side of a house to my right. Sheet metal. The wind had been bad enough to do some damage last night.
Debris could have even hit people.
All I could do was pray that the wind didn't pick up again, that there wasn't another full blown dust storm bearing down right now. But the wind continued to stay fairly calm and I dared to look up. The outline of the gas station emerged from the dust, which thankfully was blowing more to the side now instead of at me, forming crushed ghosts that drifted across the road. It was easier to see through that way.
“Yes,” I muttered, keeping the blanket pulled over me and over my face, keeping myself in the shade. “There had better be food.” My stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself. That hunger was terrible. The only good thing about it was that it made everything taste really good.
I walked downhill and reached the bottom of the hill that waited right before the station. We called it The Dip because it felt like the road here was sinking into the earth. The wind wasn't as bad here. I took some breaths.
It might have been because I was looking down that I spotted the body on the pavement, right on the bottom of The Dip and in the middle of the street. At first I stepped over it--I was getting used to bodies--but then a groan came from it and I froze, too terrified to move.
It was Tony.
The head of the football team was lying here in the middle of the sidewalk, completely exposed.
I leaned down because I didn't know what else to do. Tony groaned again. His skin was red. Dust had settled against him just like it had the curb. He had been lying here for a while. Days, maybe.
"Hey," I said, shaking him. "What are you doing here?"
“Thirsty,” he said. “I'm lost. Lost!”
“Tony,” I said. “It's Laney. I'm here. Get up if you can. You're right next to the gas station.” My mind filled in what had happened. Tony had been running, trying to find shelter, and then the dust storm got so bad that he couldn't see a thing. He did the only thing he could and dropped down to the pavement, crawling down this hill, face-down in an effort to hide his eyes, maybe. Then the storm got so strong that he couldn't risk getting up, leaving The Dip, and getting to the shelter that was literally feet from him. While Alana and I had been playing stupid board games, Tony had been lying out here, getting thirstier and weaker. I couldn't tell if his skin was battered from the sand and dust or the sun. He didn't seem blistered like Dr. Shetlin had been. He might be safe if I could just get him to stand.
“I can't,” Tony said. "Too dizzy."
“You can,” I told him. “There's stuff to drink in the gas station. I'll help you.” I wrapped the blanket even tighter around myself and grabbed his arm. He had his hands over his face. “Get up, Tony!”
Panic surged through me, but I took a breath, opened a door in the back of my mind, and crawled into its shelter. A sense of numbness swept over me and I was just acting a part in a movie. I would be stronger than this. If Tony was going to die, he was going to die. He had almost helped chuck me in the sewer, after all. That was something I had to remember. I'd try my best, but if it didn't work, it didn't work. It wasn't my fault.
Tony groaned and pushed himself to his knees. “Laney?” he asked, squinting at me. Then his eyes opened in shock. They were sunken and dehydrated. “Laney? Why are you helping me?”
“Because I'm not a despicable person like David,” I said. That might be a lie. It had been my idea to throw David in the sewer. My fault. “Get up. Take ten steps to the gas station doors and get out of this dust.”
Sand and grain blew off his shirt, joining the rest of the breeze around us. Another gust of wind blasted everything and the stop sign wavered. Tony faced the gas station and his eyes widened like he was seeing it for the first time. “I was here?” he asked. "Are you kidding?"
I didn't answer him. I really didn't want to talk to the guy or look at him. Even though I was ninety-five percent sure he was no longer my enemy, I'd done just as bad as him and seeing him reminded me of that. I kept his arm and pulled him into the front entrance. He wobbled and had to stop for a second to get his bearings.
I got the glass door open and we fell in.
The place hadn't been looted yet. Everyone had gone for the Colton Market first. That also meant that the stench of death was horrible in here since no one had moved the dead people. I didn't see a body, but the bathroom door was cracked open just a tiny bit. A lot of people had died in bathrooms. I had found that out when we escaped the Visitor Center. Radiation sickness gave you...digestive problems.
I let go of Tony and did what I was beginning to call a ritual. I counted my steps
to the bathroom door. Twenty one. I took my foot and closed the door the entire way. Thankfully, no dead person's leg was hanging out. That always made the whole thing so much worse. I had that to be thankful for.
“You're more of a man than I am,” Tony said.
I ignored him, even though he was leaning on the counter. I raided the drinks, choosing a bottled water – the biggest size I could find. Tony slumped against the counter and stared at the closed door and the dust that still blew against it. It was all browns and tans outside.
“Stay here and recover,” I told him, handing him the bottle.
Tony struggled to unscrew it. “I'm so dehydrated.”
“Here.” I did the lid for him. “Other than that, do you feel okay? I think the dust made your skin red.”
“It did,” Tony said. “I think it shielded me from the sun, but the windburn...yikes. I felt like it was taking my skin off piece by piece. It would have been worse if I hadn't wound up in The Dip.” He sucked down some water and gagged.
“Slow,” I told him, sifting through the air fresheners.
Tony threw up some of the water in a wastebasket. I was getting really tired of seeing people hurl. Then he leaned back, took a breath, and drank again. This time, it stayed down.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Man—my head.” He took another drink.
“Food,” I said, throwing my blanket down at the end of the chip aisle. Tony was in no state to steal it, but I had to be careful.
“You're really friendly.”
“You were going to help shove me down a sewer.” I was relieved that I had a reason not to like Tony. It made things simpler.
“I'm sorry. I said that.”
“Look,” I said, turning to him. I focused on his gray shirt. “Let's agree not to kill each other and leave it there.”
“I was just trying to unite us. We all had fun last night. You did, too.”
“I was drunk. Sort of.”
“Come on, Laney. It was supposed to be a morale booster, you know?”
Tony was coming online now. I counted the seconds that lingered in the silence that followed. I opened the glass cooler again and took out all the Mountain Dew I could ever dream of. I didn't have any promises to keep to Tony--only to Alana and Jerome and Gina. I stuffed everything I could into Alana's backpack, including platoons of meat sticks. “I have to be going,” I said.
He took another swig of water and stood, then swayed. “Where to?”
“Somewhere,” I said. “Good luck. I'll be working on figuring out a way to leave Colton. Supplies won't last forever.” I cast my blanket back over me, tying it in place. “Just stay here until you feel better.” Even if I wanted to take Tony with me, and I didn't, he wasn't fit to walk yet. Alana needed me.
“It stinks in here. Alana's house didn't have any bodies in it,” Tony protested. “That's where you're going, isn't it? It's right down the road.”
“Then go to Mina's,” I said, heading for the door.
“I don't know if she made it home. We got split up. Lost each other.” I could hear the agony in his voice. He was going to ask me if I could help him find her and I wasn't sure how to answer that. It was still dangerous out there and looking would take my attention away from Alana.
“You can check when things calm down,” I said. “I don't think there's anything we can do right now.” I was being such a huge jerk. I didn't hate Mina and it was making this scary. I was sure she was one of those people who never wanted to go along with David in the first place. She was the one who had to deal with the cars. Yeah, we needed her. “I hope she found shelter okay. I'm sure she's worried about you, too. You know what? Once you're feeling better, you can come on over to Alana's. We'll be there. I just don't think you should be walking right now. And wait until nighttime. I think the storm is calming down, but if it picks up again, don't move.”
Tony smiled at me. “Thanks. I don't think I'm ready to walk either. I might come over if I need help later.”
I nodded to him, turned, and got out.
* * * * *
The storm continued to die down throughout the day. I checked every once in a while through the blinds and the heavy covers that now served as our shield from the death outside. The wind calmed further, gusting less and less and the dust settled in everyone's yards, on the decorative rocks and against the curbs more than ever. There were no street cleaners now. Colton had a strange air to it, like no one had been here in years and years.
It might as well be that long.
"Is it over?" Alana asked, lifting her head from the couch. We had both spent the second half of the day sleeping and I had a sore neck from my place on the floor.
"I think so," I said. The light outside was rusty, dead. Evening was here. I was getting used to the quality of the light now. There were different shades of red and brown. There was a specific one for each time of the day. Order, order. Unless there was a storm.
"I have to get out of here," Alana said, rising. "I can't stand how quiet this house is. I can't hear my brother's cartoons anymore. I just want to hear him laugh again."
She bolted for the door.
"Alana," I said, standing in front of it. "You can't go out yet. The dust storm's gone, so there's no barrier from the sun."
"What sun?" she asked. "I don't think it's coming out again anytime soon." She furrowed her brows at me.
I had to be the mom again. "Alana," I said, grabbing her arms. "Take a breath. Things suck. I'm not going to tell you that they don't. But you have to take a breath and think. Your mom wouldn't want you to put yourself in danger. And I don't, either."
I thought she was going to raise her hand and slap me. But then Alana took a breath. "Okay," she said. "Fine. I'll wait. I can't stop having nightmares in here. It was better when we were out in the desert."
"Your grandparents will want to see you alive."
"If they're alive," she said.
"They could be," I said. "Half the people on the east side survived the radiation. The guy on the radio said so. I'm sure the closer you get to the East Coast, the higher your chances are of surviving, so they might have more than that."
Alana smiled. "You're becoming more of an optimist." She was going in and out of these moods. I knew what that was like.
I couldn't say that I was just trying to cheer her up, to give her hope and make her Alana again. There was a chance her grandparents were gone, too. If there was anything I had learned from this all, it was that people could be horrible in emergencies. This whole situation wasn't about people working together and sharing. It was about survival of the fittest. We had gone back to the stone age in a matter of minutes when that star exploded and sent its beams of death.
Everything was just about survival now.
Alana went and sat back down on the couch. We hung around as the light got to be less and less. I got up and lit another candle. We were running low. We might have to raid the dollar store for some and after that, peoples' houses. I waited for a knock on the door from Tony but it never came. Either he was still recovering in the gas station or he had gone to search for Mina.
We needed her. She could work on cars. I knew nothing about them. My forte was numbers, not gears and motors. The truck still needed to start again. We hadn't found a vehicle in town that ran other than that one. Colton had one mechanic, who happened to be empty when we checked. The pulse had struck on a weekday, during a slow time.
At last, I grabbed the blanket and threw on Alana's backpack. If another dust storm hit, we would need it. I didn't want to end up like Tony, lying helpless in the road while the sand battered him almost to death. "Alana," I said. "We need to see who's still alive."
I dreaded this with all my being. I'd put the thought out of my mind until now.
She got back up. "Good idea," she said. "How could anyone have survived that storm?"
I told her about Tony. I hadn't mentioned him when I got back. Her eyes got wider and wider. "His skin got all red
?" she asked. "I've heard of dust storms blinding people, but not tearing their skin off."
"He covered them for almost two days," I said. "He's got to be hurting."
"Poor Tony. Then we need to go back out there and help him," Alana said. "Get him some bandages, or something."
"He almost helped kill us."
"But once David was gone, he didn't."
Alana still had some trust in her. It was blooming like a flower through the cracks in a sidewalk, just waiting to be crushed. I wasn't going to be the one to do it. Alana didn't need that right now. "Okay," I said. "We'll see if he's still at the station."
The flashlight was getting dim, but when we got to the gas station, Tony wasn't there. The stench remained, but the door had stayed shut. I found some batteries and we refilled the flashlight, which gave off a healthy beam again. The light landed on the snacks and cheap car air fresheners all around us. Flies buzzed somewhere and kept hitting the windows with little thuds. It was the creepiest sound. This gas station used to play corny country music all the time, mostly to lure in the older people who settled in Colton from colder states. I missed it. Music was another world. It was real life, which didn't exist anymore. Life and survival were two different things. One had dreams, friends, family. Love, even. The other just had instinct, drive, functions. And fear. That never left.
"He's not here," Alana said. "I just wish cell phones worked."
"That would be good," I said. "I never imagined a world without them. You know?"
"A world without phones sucks," Alana said. "There had better be some still working on the east side. Come on. Let's find him."
But when we walked around town, Tony wasn't in sight.
We searched the downtown area. We even walked past David's old place, the old ranch near the river with the big house, but he wasn't there either. The breeze was coming from the house and the horse barns and the smell was so bad that I didn't want to get any closer. I wondered what had gone through David's head if he came back here and if he was capable of missing his parents. Their Hummers were in the driveway, unused and dead just like everything else on the property. The last of the sun's light faded behind the buildings as Alana and I stood there, shining our flashlight on the place. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a death camp.