by Sergio Gomez
Who the hell built this? And for what? Alejandro asked himself.
“I guess someone doesn’t want us to go to Philadelphia.” Charlie said.
There had to be a way through here, there had to be, they were so close. Whatever force or grace had been protecting them in the church had run dry, the magic fairy or angel or whatever had run out of fairy dust or tapped the last of its miracles. Sorry amigos, but you’re on your own from here on out!
Looking around he saw nothing but a sea of charred cars and holes in the highway. Now that they were close to the wall there were also pieces of rock scattered about, but other than that more of the same.
He jogged over to the median and lifted himself up over it to get a good look at the other side of the highway. I-95 North had also been crowded with people fleeing the city when the bombings started; evidenced by the number of cars and car parts he was looking at over the median. It was like a nightmare version of a junkyard, the kind of nightmare where there’s lots of black smoke and a monster with lots of teeth lurking behind the stacks of junk.
Then his gaze fell on something that didn’t quite fit with the rest of the scenery, an SUV that may as well have been washed and waxed with how shiny it looked in comparison to its drab surroundings. And dear Lord, was that the windshield wipers he just saw moving?
Alejandro launched himself over the median and crouched toward the SUV. Keeping himself low to reduce the chance of being seen, he went around to the driver’s side. As he neared the window he pulled out the pistol. A man wearing brown worker boots and a rain slicker stepped out of the SUV as Alejandro was inches from the door.
Alejandro aimed the gun at him, “Hands up.”
“Whoa!” The man in the slicker hadn’t seen him, and nearly fell backwards but caught himself on the seat of the car.
“Hands up!”
The man put his hands up in compliance.
A scream came from inside the SUV and Alejandro took a quick glance inside to see a young blond girl cowering in the passenger seat.
“Tell her to get out of the car and come over here where I can see you both.”
The girl heard him and was going around the SUV before the man could relay the message. There was a slight drizzle, and the girl was wearing a yellow t-shirt and denim capris so she had her arms crossed in front of her chest to try to shield herself from the rain.
“Stand next to him,” Alejandro said, and for a second he thought about aiming the gun at her, but he erased the thought and kept the gun concentrated on the man.
The girl moved a few inches closer to the man and leaned against the SUV. She was dry heaving, afraid that if she started making a racket they’d both get shot.
“Can we leave her out of—“
Alejandro shoved the gun closer to the man’s face, which worked to silence him.
This elicited more dry-heaving from the girl. The man put his hands out in front of him. “Okay, okay, Mister, Jesus. What do you want? Food? Water?”
The part of him that was watching this from an audience member’s perspective realized what was happening to the script…it was being flipped. He was the one behind the gun, and these two people (father and daughter, filmmakers did you go that far to drive the point home?) were at his whim. The only thing missing was the river, and the couple of dead Noches in the background.
But it’s not the same, he told himself. He didn’t want to take their belongings for his own survival; he just wanted answers to his questions.
So why am I holding them at gunpoint? Is it because it feels good?
That was it. It felt good to not be the victim for once, even if it was at the expense of making these people fear for their lives.
“I don’t want any of that,” Alejandro said, noting the confusion the man expressed underneath the hood of the rain slicker. “I want to know what the hell these rocks are doing here.”
The man and the girl exchanged a glance. The man shrugged and turned back to Alejandro, but the fear was gone out of his eyes, instead it was replaced by sympathy, the kind of look reserved for strung-out hobos in city walkways. Alejandro flinched.
“Those creatures, you know the ones. The ones that come out at night, they built this giant wall to keep us from going farther down the highway.”
“Why, what’s past the highway?” Alejandro asked.
“More of the same,” the man responded.
“Then why build a wall?” Alejandro felt like the man was keeping something from him. It didn’t make sense that the creatures had spent what looked to be months of work building a wall that protected nothing.
The man shrugged and made a sudden movement with his right hand.
Alejandro gripped the gun tighter, and realized for the first time that the man himself might have a gun underneath the rain slicker. And if his guess was correct that these were father and daughter, he wouldn’t hesitate to fire the way he fired at the brothers.
“Don’t try anything,” Alejandro said, hoping it came off stronger than it sounded to his own ears.
“No, no, just a twitch,” he lied, and then put his hands back up in the air.
“You have any weapons on you?” Alejandro asked, the bark coming back in his voice.
He could read the internal struggle all over the man’s face. Whether to be honest and hope he would keep them alive or to risk lying to keep the gun in his possession.
“Come on, give it up,” he said to the man, then turned to the girl, “You too.”
“She doesn’t have a gun on her.” The man said.
“But you do, so give it up or I’ll shoot you and then take it.”
The man started reaching for the gun holstered to his hip, a little too fast for Alejandro’s comfort, and he made sure to tell him to go slower.
When his hand was coming back out of the slicker, Alejandro watched it carefully, already deciding that if it came out barrel first he would put a bullet in the man. But it didn’t, it came out butt first and the man handed it over to him.
“There, that’s all I got.” He said.
Alejandro took it and now was aiming both at the man. He turned his head toward the wall. “So, are you going to tell me about this wall now that I have your weapon?”
“Sir, I don’t know anything about it.” The fear was back in the man, and it showed with each tremble of his lips. And with fear often times truth came with it. “I know someone who does, though.”
The last statement was spoken fast, like he would have stopped midsentence if he had known he was speaking it before it came out. Alejandro’s interest was piqued, but he wasn’t sure he heard him right.
“What was that?”
“I know someone who knows about the wall.”
“You mean there’re more than just you two?”
The man nodded. “And if you put the gun—guns down, we can speak like civilized human beings.”
That was a term Alejandro thought he’d never hear again, but the man was right. The only thing separating them from a normal conversation was his hostility. And there was no threatening vibe coming from these people, especially not now that he had their own weapon in his possession.
“I’ll put mine back, but I keep yours.”
The man nodded. Alejandro hadn’t intended for it to be up for question, but he was beginning to reel back into control of his actions, no longer an outsider looking in, and found it difficult to keep his sternness.
He holstered his pistol and then lowered the other gun. The man’s shoulders relaxed and the girl began to weep low.
Alejandro gave the man a look that said, do what you have to do. The man returned with a look that said, thanks for understanding.
Alejandro walked away toward the wall, filled with guilt. Trying to convince himself that he could have easily been on the wrong side of that if they would have found them first. After all, they did have a gun on them.
Maybe not easily. He thought.
The look in the man’s eyes suggeste
d he had never hurt a fly. And when the gun was in his hands, his body language was that of someone holding an alien object. There was almost relief in his face when Alejandro had taken it off his hands. Almost.
The man comforted the girl and then sent her back to the car.
“Hey Mister,” He shouted to Alejandro. “What’s your name?”
Alejandro turned away from the wall, wiping the dirt from his hand. “My name is Alejandro Ramos. And yours?”
The man approached him with his hand out, “Name’s Paul Duddy. And my daughter’s name--the girl you scared the pants off of-- is Claire.”
Alejandro shook his hand. Then he put the gun between them—barrel facing down and butt towards Paul. “I’m guess you want this back.”
“Yeah, I guess I better hold on to it,” Paul said, and despite that adrenaline was still rushing through him, he smiled at Alejandro.
It was a good smile, a warm smile, the kind that makes you feel welcomed when it greets you at a restaurant or convenience store. Alejandro felt another wave of regret hit him like a hammer.
“Whew!” Paul said, shaking from a chill running up his spine. “Sorry about that, just getting my nerves together.”
Alejandro tried not to find humor in that, but he couldn’t help himself, the man’s natural jolly was too potent and he found himself smiling. “So much for first impressions.”
“Not the way I’m used to meeting people, no.” Paul said, and then he turned his attention to the rock wall. “Listen, all I can tell you about this darn wall is that they finally finished building it. This highway used to be the only way we could go to Philadelphia and beyond.”
“Wait a minute…you’re telling me this rock wall doesn’t just block the highway?”
“No, sir. This is the tip of the iceberg.”
Alejandro glanced at it, as if doing that would make it more believable. It did the opposite. “How far does it go?”
Paul shrugged. “We followed it for four miles once and then turned back. We only have so much gas and didn’t want to waste it all following a pile of rocks, you know?”
Alejandro nodded.
“This highway used to be opened up until today. That’s what me and Claire were talking about before you showed up.” He looked around. “By the way, where did you come from?”
Alejandro pointed at the median. “From that side of the road. My son’s over there with our truck.”
Paul looked impressed. “Where’d you get the truck?”
“An inheritance from a friend, you can say.”
“And your boy’s over there now?”
“Yeah, and actually, I’m going to go tell him I’m alright.” Alejandro wasn’t sure how much time had passed, if enough had even passed for Charlie to begin worrying, but he was going to go see him anyway.
Paul gestured toward the SUV, “Yeah, I should probably go calm down Claire. Say, we’ll meet you over on that side of the median. You’re directly over the median, by the wall, right?”
“Yep, you can’t miss us.”
Paul laughed, which lit his face like a Christmas tree.
“Okay, amigo, let’s go tend to the kids and then meet back up.”
3
Paul pulled up next to the truck, where Alejandro was standing with his boy. The boy looked to be a four years younger than Claire, but on the cusp of the teenage years. Something in his eyes suggested he was past the maturity of a teen, though.
Paul rolled down the passenger side window and leaned toward it past Claire. He smiled at Alejandro and Charlie. “Hello there, amigos.”
Alejandro waved to them. The boy and Claire locked eyes, and his cheeks flushed red. He waved shyly to them.
Paul got out of the van and joined them. Claire got out of the van, but stayed behind the group leaning against the side of the SUV.
“Claire, Paul, this is my son Charlie,” Alejandro said.
“Nice to meet ya big fella,” Paul said, shaking Charlie’s hand.
Claire and Charlie waved to each other, the signature of two people in an awkward introduction between strangers.
“Nice to meet you,” Charlie mumbled.
Claire responded with something under her breath that no one understood. She wasn’t even sure what she had said, but it sounded good enough to be a response.
“I would introduce you to Claire, but you two have already met.” Paul said, and chuckled.
There was something admirable about him making a joke of the situation that made Alejandro chuckle as well. Charlie smiled.
But Claire didn’t. She just glared at Alejandro until he looked over at her, then her eyes dropped to the floor. For a fraction of a second when they had met eyes, Alejandro could almost hear what she was thinking, as clear as if he were a mind reader; I don’t trust you.
In her shoes, he wouldn’t have trusted himself either. But that still didn’t make him feel better about what he had done. The teenage girl’s look hurt him, not since he was a teen himself did a teenage girl’s opinion affect him in this manner. It was surprising, like finding yourself crying over a memory you thought wouldn’t hurt you anymore.
But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe the fact that he still had regret and guilt meant he hadn’t lost himself to the dark side yet. He had dipped his toes into it, more than once, that’s for sure, but he wasn’t head under in the waters of the devil, not yet. Not ever, hopefully.
“Does that sound good, Alejandro?”
He snapped out of the thoughts at the tail end of Paul’s question.
“You okay?” Paul asked, after noticing the change in Alejandro’s focus.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry, was just thinking about…other things.”
Paul furrowed his brow and then grabbed Alejandro’s shoulder. “Trying to figure out what the rock wall is hiding, huh? Trust me, the guys back at base are scratching their heads as well, you’ll fit right in.”
That wasn’t why he hadn’t been paying attention, but he had his mind tangled up in that mystery as well, ever since Paul told him the wall was built by Los Noches. “Sounds like my kind of people.”
Paul smiled. “Yeah. So, does going back to base and getting some food in our bellies sound like a plan?”
That was the second time he had said the word ‘base’, which made him hopeful that the place they called base would be like where he imagined Bill Goldenburg had been staying: safe, with good people, full of food, and if they were lucky a place to get a cold shower.
“That sounds great to me.” Alejandro replied.
“Alright then, you follow us.” Paul said as he started back to the driver’s side of the van.
Alejandro and Charlie got into the truck. When they were inside Charlie asked, “Can we trust them?”
There was no way for Charlie to have known the irony in that. He hadn’t seen Alejandro holding them up with the gun for answers about the wall. Alejandro buckled his belt and said, “Yeah, I think so.”
“So what about that wall? Do they know where it came from?”
“Los Noches built it.”
The truck roared to life as Alejandro turned the key. The needle said he still had half a tank of gas, but he hoped that ‘base’ wasn’t too far from where they were.
“Los Noches built it?” Charlie repeated.
“Yep.”
In the rearview mirror he saw the SUV was heading down the opposite side of the road, so he backed up and then headed that way too.
*
Alejandro had driven right past the town where the ‘base’ had been when heading to Philadelphia. Their base was in a town formally known as Trexlerville, and in the shell of what used to be a bar for the older crowd. Evidence of this was the torn posters still hanging on the wall advertising “Cher and Michael Bolton Night” as an event. The date had been set for August 23rd, 2014, and if his timeframe was correct, that night this bar was already in ruins.
Alejandro entered the bar following behind Paul and Claire. Charlie was at
the rear of the group close to Alejandro.
The other survivors were gathered in the main bar area where the patrons used to get their dance on to 90’s pop music. There wasn’t much dancing to be done these days, or much of a floor to even do it on because it was mostly dirt and broken tile where the dance floor used to be.
The first one to notice them was an older man--Alejandro guessed he was in his early sixties judging by the white hair on his head—that was behind the bar and leaning on the table.
“Paul, Claire, and guests!” He said, posturing up.
The lady who had her arm around his waist quickly let go when he postured up to wave to the group.
The man standing behind the bar, next to the shelf of empty liquor bottles looked up from his cleaning of a gun and flashed a grin.
The blond boy sitting at one of the stools half turned to glance at them, then went back to inspecting the scab on his elbow.
Paul led them to the bar and Claire took the far seat next to the blond guy.
By the time he got to the table the older man had a can of beer out for Alejandro. “A drink for our guest?”
“No thanks,” Alejandro said.
“Well, if you want it, the offer is on the table,” he said, smiling, then he stuck his hand out. “Howard.”
“Alejandro, and this is my son Charlie.”
“Nice of you to join us.” Howard said, then went around to the rest of the group introducing everyone.
The woman at his side was Felicia, the man cleaning the gun was Will, and the blond guy was Howard’s son Boris.
“Welcome to our humble little home.” Howard said.
“Thank you,” Alejandro looked around at the bar, noticing the walls were covered with bullet holes. “You guys get a lot of trouble?”
Howard looked over at the shot up wall that had caught Alejandro’s attention. “That was there when we got here.”
Alejandro nodded. “I see. But I imagine the night creatures come around this town, no?”