by Kip Nelson
“Maybe the owners got hurt trying to defend this place from the people who did all this,” Grace said, and that solemn thought sobered them all. Mack called out a greeting, but there was no response, and after the words left his lips Maggie rounded on him.
“What the hell are you doing?” she cried out in a harsh whisper.
“Seeing if there's anyone around,” a flummoxed Mack replied.
“You can't just go ahead and shout! You must be careful. People could be dangerous,” she added.
“They also could be friendly. We can't spend our whole lives living in fear.”
“And if we aren’t careful, your whole life isn't going to be very long.” She huffed and went back to searching for any other food, although by now it was apparent there literally was nothing left.
Still, they were determined to make sure they had covered every inch of the store. So, they went behind the counter as well, and were disturbed only by the soft tinkling of door chimes. Instantly, they all drew their weapons and pointed it at the source of the sound, as a door opened and a woman walked out. She was short of stature with light blonde hair that came down to her shoulders. She wore glasses, which rested on her button nose. Mack placed her as early twenties at the latest. She had a rotund physique and a cheery smile, and she didn't seem to flinch at all even though multiple guns were pointed at her head.
“Hello,” she said brightly, “Sorry it took me a while to come out, but I did hear you. I'm Eleanor, by the way.” She blinked at them and folded her hands in front of her.
The group looked at each other, disarmed by her friendliness, as it wasn't what they had been expecting at all, and even her presence was a delight. Mack introduced himself and the others, and he noticed Maggie remained guarded and looked at Eleanor with suspicion.
“We're sorry for taking your food, we didn't think there was anyone here,” Mack said.
“Oh, don't you worry about that. Most of it was gone when the people all left their cars and made their way to the city. Frankly, I'm surprised you managed to find anything at all. I haven't had much cause to clean around here lately. My father and I managed to hide some at the back. So, we've had enough food and, to be honest, the diet is doing me some good,” she said, tilting her head to the side as she tittered with laughter.
“So, there's two of you here?” Mack asked, peering behind her, but she had closed the door.
“Yes, just me and Pop, it's been that way for a long time. He's been running this station for, well, longer than I've been on this Earth.”
“So, that's why you chose to stay here rather than try making it to the city?” Mack asked. Eleanor sighed before she answered.
“Yeah, and Pop didn't think there would be much waiting for us in the city anyway. Said that people went mad, and the more there were the madder they got, and we saw a lot of that here. You should have seen them when it all happened. You'd have thought the world was ending with the way they carried on. Came in here, shouting and yelling and took whatever they wanted. There wasn't a damn thing we could do to stop them. Tried calling the cops, but the phones were dead, and they probably had too many other things to deal with.
“Before we knew it, all the people were gone and nobody really bothered us after that. They all went stampeding back to the city...some people, some of the nice ones, asked us if we wanted to join them, but this is our home. It's the only home I've ever known, and I can't leave it. Besides, Pop wasn't going to leave either, and I'm not going anywhere without him. But you're welcome to stay for a while,” she said.
Mack was touched by this show of devotion between family and he accepted her offer, although immediately he was aware of Maggie huffing. He smiled at Eleanor and then turned to have a quiet word with Maggie.
“What's the problem?” he asked.
“We should be on our way, not wasting our time in some halfway house like this,” Maggie said, scowling.
“You never should refuse hospitality from a stranger,” Mack said, smiling, and left Maggie feeling infuriated. With that it was decided they would stay for a little while in the empty, ghost-like gas station.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“PLEASE, make yourselves comfortable. I know this isn't exactly a living room here, but my home is your home. That's what Pop always used to tell me. We had to be kind to strangers because we're all strangers until we meet each other. I always thought that was funny. Like how, at one point, you never actually knew your closest friends until you met. Not that I had many close friends. There was Marie back at school, but we lost touch.
“Pop needed my help here, so I had to leave high school. I didn't mind so much. He taught me all I knew anyway. He's smarter than any other teacher I ever had. We had some regulars as well, and they were like friends to me, although we never saw them after all the electricity stopped working. Thought maybe one or two of them might have come around to check on us, but they must have had other things to worry about. But that's another reason why Pop tried to help everyone, because he wanted to be kind to them, but they were so loud and violent and they just took everything and fought with themselves. It was like a whirlwind. But you people don't seem like that. It's calm now, and peaceful. I like that.
“Where have you come from? Are you going to the city as well, or are you going to the forest? Pop used to take me camping sometimes, late at night, and we would stare up at the stars. Sometimes, he would take me on trips to the city as well, but I didn't like those as much. It was too loud and noisy for me. All those people...I couldn't hear myself think. Still, there was lots to do and see. I think, at one point, Pop was afraid I was going to leave him for the city, but I never could have done that. My place always has been here.
“I bet it's exciting traveling around like you have been. Can you tell me all about your adventures? I'd love to hear! I have a few books here, but I've read them all by now. As you can imagine, it gets a bit boring with just me and Pop around. We're kind of used to it, but it used to be nice when people would come in and say hello to us, and that doesn't happen anymore because people just don't need gas,” Eleanor said breathlessly.
She went to the counter and pulled out a can opener, which she handed to Saul, who had pulled out the can of peaches and was about to impale it with a knife. He stared at her as she moved through the store and leaned against the counter, looking at Mack and the others expectantly.
Mack glanced toward Maggie and noted the expression on her face. Eleanor seemed hyper, and while it was easy to put down her stream of conversation given she had been stuck here with nobody but her Pop for company, Mack did notice a slight twitch in her demeanor that gave him cause for concern. Since he was looking at her carefully, Grace noticed nobody was speaking. So, she took up the slack and told Eleanor all about the places and people they had met along the way, with Hank adding to the story with his group's adventures. Eleanor stared wide-eyed at all they had experienced and, by the end of it, she looked as exhausted as the others felt.
“You all have been through a lot. Well, I can promise you won't find anything here but friendliness. I think it's so sad that there are people out there who just want to hurt other people. It doesn't serve any purpose, and it's just a selfish thing to do. People only think of themselves, and it's not right. It's not right at all. And being attacked by a bear...well, Pop always did tell me there were monsters in the woods. That's why we only camped a little way into the forest, not far from the road. It was still nice, even though I could hear the cars driving by, so I couldn't escape the world completely. That's the biggest difference between then and now, the noises. The world is so quiet now. It's funny to realize all the sounds that are in the world that you don't really notice until they're not there anymore.
“It was good of you to help those people in the mental institution, though. We used to have some people come through who were visiting their relatives or friends in that place, not that Pop and I ever went there ourselves, as we had no need to do so. I passed by the building
a few times, and it always scared me. I'm glad that nothing like that has happened to me because I don't think I'd be able to handle it. I like just living here with Pop, just the two of us, it's nice and simple. Are you sure you want to go on to the city? You know there just are going to be more people doing more horrible things. There's not much room for you to stay here, but I'm sure you could find somewhere else?” she suggested, with a hopeful look on her face.
“I'm sure there are, but we have people we want to find, and I think we all want to feel like a part of the world again. It's been isolated, being in this forest. Hopefully, when we get to the city we can have a better idea of what's going on, and maybe even get some news of the outside world,” Mack said.
“Pop and I never much cared for the outside world. He said too many people spend their time thinking about what they don't have and what's out there that they miss everything they have in front of them. I can't say I disagree. I'm happy to be here in my own little world, and we'll see what happens,” Eleanor replied, smiling contentedly.
“But don't you have dreams of your own? Maybe something that wouldn't have been possible before the rules of the world changed?” Luis asked. Eleanor scrunched up her face as she thought about it, then shook her head vehemently. As she did this Mack thought she looked even younger than he initially had assumed.
“Not really...my place is here, and this is where I have to stay. That much hasn't changed. I don't think I ever could leave here. I don't know what I would do with myself. It's not the most amazing place in the world, I admit that, but it is my home and it holds a special place in my heart,” she said, looking around the store with a wistful look on her face.
She smiled calmly and silence settled over them all. Grace moved to the counter and talked to Eleanor again. Grace assumed she and Eleanor were about the same age, and yet there seemed to be a marked difference between them. Grace felt harder and more weathered than Eleanor seemed to be, who still had a flighty look about herself, as though she had been cloaked and protected from the world. Perhaps that was because she had a father to look after her, Grace had thought, and felt an old hollowness return.
The empty ache once had pervaded her soul, but, over time, she had learned to ignore it and push it away. However, on occasion, it returned, and she felt incredibly alone, all because no parents had claimed her when she was a child. Not like with Eleanor, who seemed to have an almost overly dependent relationship with her Pop, which was, in some ways, understandable, given where they lived. In some ways, Grace was envious of what Eleanor had. Grace never would know that kind of closeness and unconditional love that came from a parent.
While they continued chatting Mack circled around to Maggie and leaned in, speaking low.
“What do you think? You were a cop, you must be good at reading body language, too,” he said.
Maggie looked at him out of the corner of her eye, then shifted her gaze back to the crowd around the counter, focusing on Eleanor. Eleanor's eyes were flitting between everyone, and she wore a constant smile, but occasionally her gaze did return to the door from which she had emerged. Her hands were gripping the edge of the counter and she continually shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“There's definitely something amiss,” Maggie said. “She's speaking really quickly, and that could be a sign that she's trying to hide something, or that she's nervous. Then again, she seems to have been on her own for a while, well, just with her father.”
“Yes,” Mack murmured, “but don't you think it's strange that he hasn't shown himself? You'd think for someone who loves this place so much, and is clearly protective of his daughter by not wanting to run away from the city, that he would have come out to investigate and see the kind of people who were standing in his gas station.”
“Maybe he was broken by all the people who came here and took everything? Maybe he's too scared?” Maggie suggested.
“Maybe,” Mack said, “but I think I'm going to find out for myself. Make sure she doesn't notice what I'm doing,” he said, and moved off before Maggie could ask him what he was doing.
She scowled once again, and joined the rest of the crowd, interrupting Grace loudly to capture Eleanor's attention and distract her from Mack, who quickly slipped through the door toward the back of the gas station. The air was cooler and there were fewer lights here, so Mack had to wait for his eyes to adjust. He hated thinking the worst of Eleanor, but he knew how isolation could change people, and he had a responsibility to keep the group safe. That was the burden of leadership and one he carried on his shoulders willingly.
He stepped forward slowly, making sure his footsteps made no sound. He wasn't sure what he would find, but definitely something was wrong. There was a narrow window at the end of the corridor and a doorway into another room. Boxes were stacked beside him, and he noticed they were mostly full. The people who ransacked the place must have been too preoccupied to think beyond what was in front of them. In a way, he was glad Eleanor had these supplies because she didn't strike him as the type who would be able to last long in the wilderness.
As he moved down the small corridor Mack noticed the air’s scent began changing, and when he came to the door he saw the reason why. Air fresheners were hanging from the ceiling and the doorway. Mack stifled a cough as the scent of lavender mingled with the stale air, and he furrowed his brow as he tried figuring out why these would have been placed here. Glancing over his shoulder, there was still no sign of Eleanor. So, it seemed as though Maggie was doing her job, but there were no other sounds back here either.
Mack was beginning to wonder if Pop was even real, or if he was a figment of Eleanor's imagination. His feet creaked against the floorboards. He stopped outside the doorway and peered around, not sure what to expect. There was a high window, which let a little light in and Mack could make out a figure sitting in a chair with his back turned to the doorway. He breathed with relief, and thought that perhaps Maggie was right, and Pop just had been too scared to come out.
“Pop?” Mack said tentatively, “It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. We're friendly. Eleanor has welcomed us into your home and she's spoken so much of you that I wanted to meet you myself.”
However, there was no reply from the man in the chair, and suddenly Mack was aware of a smell that had become all too familiar; the stench of death. Even the air fresheners were not powerful enough to cover up that smell, and the closer Mack got to the body the more he was filled with dread. He moved around to face Pop, and gasped when he saw what was sitting before him. The rotting flesh was gray and sunken, and there was a hole in his forehead that was caked with blood. His jaw hung open and his eyes were staring out into oblivion. His hands were folded into his lap and his fingers still were wrapped around the trigger of a pistol. Mack closed his eyes and wished that when he opened them again the sight would have disappeared, but it had not. The body sat there, dead, infecting the air with its necrotic stench. Mack now realized why Eleanor had been speaking so much of Pop.
He made his way back through the corridor and wished that the smell of death was easy to rid from his nose. He closed the door behind him and skulked around the back of the shelves. Maggie noticed him return, so she excused herself from the conversation she had started and returned to Mack's side.
“Pop's dead. Bullet hole in his head. She's propped him up in a chair and hung air fresheners around him. He's been dead for a while. It's not a pretty sight,” he said, and as soon as he had finished talking Maggie whipped out her gun and pointed it at Eleanor, silencing the conversation.
The others, who all had been talking to Eleanor, too, and had not noticed Mack slip out to perform his investigation, looked shocked. They had seen nothing suspicious about Eleanor's behavior at all, and wondered what on Earth had provoked Maggie into taking such an action. Indeed, Grace, Luis, and Saul wondered if it was not Maggie who they should mistrust, but their fears were allayed when they saw equally shocked looks on the faces of Maggie's companions as well. Th
en all eyes turned from Maggie to Eleanor, who slowly raised her hands. Her lip started trembling as well. Maggie's hands did not waver, just as they had not wavered when she first had introduced herself to the group, and the barrel of the gun was pointing straight at Eleanor.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MACK KNEW what it was like to stare down the barrel of a gun, so he felt sympathy for Eleanor. He wasn't sure he would have handled the situation in the same way as Maggie, but they needed to get at the truth. Maggie's way was blunt, but he was sure it would be effective. Besides, she had responded so quickly there had been no time for him to stop her. Now he had to let the scene play out from there.
When Maggie pointed the gun, everyone around the counter, except for Eleanor, had moved away, out of the line of fire. Eleanor raised her hands and looked scared and vulnerable. Every part of her body was shaking. Mack knew Maggie had assumed Eleanor killed her father. Then because of the guilt had created this fantasy that he still was alive and still spoke of him; her broken mind couldn't bear the thought that she had killed him. Mack didn't believe that was the case, though. Eleanor didn't strike him as the type to murder anyone, not even when pressed against a corner, and the way she reacted now gave that theory more credence.
“I have nothing to take...you have everything. I thought you weren't like the others,” she mumbled through her sobs.
Tears streamed down her face and her breath caught in her throat as she tried choking back her tears. Everyone could see her hands were shaking. “What do you want?” she asked.
“Yeah, what's going on?” Grace asked, challenging Maggie. “She hasn't done anything to us, why are you doing this?”
“She knows what she's done,” Maggie said, tightening her grip on the gun.
She had both hands wrapped around the weapon and her legs spread out, giving her a good stance. Her eyes followed the line of the bullet, and it was pointed straight at Eleanor’s center mass. Maggie knew too many people tried going for the head shot when the middle of the body was an easier target. It was equally as deadly since there were so many organs that could be damaged and should be considered first aim, when trying to stop someone. Real life wasn't like in the movies, where people could shrug off a bullet wound and carry on running even as they were bleeding out. No, real life was much different, and much more dangerous.