by C. Martens
The small fire in the tiny fireplace of the cabin was not much comfort as Emmett spooned pork and beans, cold from the can. He would be lonely, but he would not be alone. That was good enough for now.
After the second motor home lurched into the ditch opposite the first, the young couple retreated to their newly acquired digs. A fire too large for the fireplace, but still contained, did not drive all the demons out, but it was a start. They would be more comfortable than Emmett. They had beds, heat, showers, and all the comforts of normal living.
They failed to notice the curtain move in the house across the court as they drove up.
§
The next days found the twosome in the house staying in bed. They depleted the stores of tissue under the bath sinks and gave themselves time to heal. Well, not exactly heal, but….
By the third day of waking with congested lungs, they started to have extended periods free of hacking coughs.
Chloe felt good enough to rearrange furniture and enlisted the much better Andy for the heavy lifting. Not even thinking of making that kind of effort, perfectly comfortable with the house as is, Andy was pleased with the result. Still, changing a house they did not own felt strange. A paradigm shift occurred in how they thought about the world, society, and the ethics and morals that they had grown up believing in. The labor in taking possession of the house and making it a home wakened them to the realities of what the future held. Even beyond their own mortality, they realized some of what Emmett was in for.
In following days there were times they were glad they would not survive. They experienced survivor guilt even though they knew where their path was leading. There were days they would gaze sideways under lowered lashes, one at the other, without voicing the regret that they would not grow old together. They each thought they were the only one doing it. To distract themselves from dark thoughts, they threw themselves into taking care of Emmett.
A favorite activity became breaking and entering. The small community of homes was close to the main highway, built in a once agricultural field that had been sold for development. Intended for people in retirement or as second homes for vacation use, the buildings were small and were planned and built to be cozy. Owners embraced the idea and filled their homes with colorful quilts and antiques made in third world countries. Porches full of attractive, rustic lawn furniture and hanging plants proliferated.
As they broke locks, they found several homes with odors. They left those dwellings uninspected, doors propped open. Leaving them open to air out made no real sense. Doing so was just a hold over attitude from bygone days.
There were no dogs. Kennels were empty, and they did not investigate the house interiors with the heavy, cloying smells. But on opening those doors there were two cats that emerged. One was a calico that made her way out as though treading on uncertain ground. She picked her way, peering suspiciously at the earth as though it was going to open under her feet. When Andy bent to pick her up, she fled into the shrubbery, never to be seen again. The other cat was a grey tiger stripe. She marched directly up to Andy as though she owned him. Andy had not been around a pet since childhood, but the cat purred and rubbed figure eights around his legs, making it clear that he was now owned by her. Over time she owned Chloe as well.
Chloe had wished to find a dog. Not for herself, but for Emmett. She knew her brother was terribly lonely.
Several of the houses, especially those with odors, had gardens. Many were being watered automatically, and a couple even had robots that were pulling the weeds. Fresh veggies made their way to the table. Emmett received carrots and tomatoes picked by robots and dipped in bleach.
There were also houses with chickens. Andy and Chloe rightly assumed they were owned by permanent residents, probably retirees. Many were out of feed and had resorted to cannibalism. Automatic waterers had kept some alive. Bags of pellets, crumble, and scratch sat unopened in sheds or loose in metal cans with lids, just out of reach of the caged birds. Chloe gathered the survivors and after clipping their beaks to prevent them pecking at each other, concentrated them in her favorite coop. After a couple of weeks she installed a pet door from one of the houses that functioned on a photo optic sensor, allowing the door to open when it got light and closing after dusk. The birds would be safe from nocturnal predators and still have access to foraging during the day. Under these conditions they would survive well, even without human care. Good feed lessened the stress that the birds had been under, and they started to lay eggs sporadically. Over time, they would lay more as they got over their starvation.
Fresh eggs had to be eaten immediately after being dipped in bleach. The natural protective coating that would have kept them edible for weeks, even without refrigeration, was dissolved away. Andy had one of the bots stick a hot plate found in a garage into a brand new plastic garbage bag, and the one socket in the cabin became useful. The bag leaked bleach, but after drying out, the simple electronic device worked well. The non-stick skillet and spatula was soaked without any problem.
Emmett walked the beach every day. The low cliffs to the south had few access points to the mainland, and Emmett was very aware of where they were. He had no intention of using them, more concerned with them being used by others. He inspected them every day for fresh footprints.
To the north was the lighthouse. The old structure sat high on a bluff that jutted toward the pacific. At low tide there was limited access around the rocky headland, and this was inspected daily for evidence of traffic as well.
A couple of weeks into their occupancy of the small community, Andy and Chloe were starting to feel confined. The beach was off limits, so they started to explore the fields surrounding them. After the first couple of hikes, Andy started to carry fencing pliers. He had two reasons. Finding a pasture with several animal carcasses grouped around a dry water trough, they noticed there were others running out of resources as well. There was water and plenty of feed, but fences held domesticated livestock away from what they needed to survive. The other reason he cut wire was so they did not have to climb fences. It was a win, win.
There was no reason to think of the livestock as food. There were freezers teeming with protein treasures as they searched houses. They suspected that the wind generator next to the subdivision was wired in directly and that the freezers would run for a long time.
As the pair investigated their surroundings, the opening of gates and fences became a mission. Often animals would crowd to them as they approached, and on being released the animals would kick and buck and cavort like crazy things. Seeing huge cows with massive udders flapping under them as they gyrated, feet off the ground, always made the lovers laugh.
They found other confined carcasses, but livestock owners understood what their responsibilities were even as they perished. The vast majority of animals were put to pasture rather than being contained in close quarters with limited means.
One drizzly day they ran onto a pair of horses on short feed. They had managed to get enough to stay healthy, but they had lost significant weight.
One was a buckskin mare with stripes on her forelegs and down her back. She was one of the throwback horses that had shown up in the wild herds of Oregon in the late part of the prior century. The two fence cutters expected her to be docile and had the idea that they would be riding soon, but the mare had other ideas. Andy barely escaped intact, and the mare was last seen kicking up its heels as she disappeared into heavy cover heading east.
The other animal was a small gelding. A pinto with an ugly, overly large head, he was a perfect gentleman. Chloe had an idea. Without two horses they were intending to let the pony loose, but now the little cayuse solved her problem of finding a companion for her brother. She gathered a sturdy halter, lead rope, and the bridle that looked to fit the pinto, and determined to soak them in the bleach tub on returning. She figured that the bridle would be okay, being leather and metal, but was unsure about the artificial fabrics of the other tack. Nevertheless, it was the
best she could do for now.
The big question was whether they could get the horse to Emmett without contaminating him. They had already introduced themselves, so the horse had been fondled behind its ears and down its neck. Chloe relished the feel of the little guy’s muzzle as he blew and snorted into her hand.
A lariat found its way around the pinto’s neck. It would serve as a lead for now until they got back. As the horse exited the gate and started to follow, he suddenly started to act strange, walking as though burdened by a heavy weight and looking around at the ground. Andy and Chloe had not been around horses very much, so they were surprised when the little equine crouched and collapsed into the sand they were walking through. Both humans laughed, as they realized what was going on. The gelding needed to roll and scratch his back. An idea dawned.
Thrilled as always to see his sister, Emmett listened carefully to their plan. The horse needed to be disinfected.
The halter replaced the rope, and the rope went into the tub of bleach. Emmett was instructed to find a long, straight sapling, and the soaked lariat was strung along it so that he could maintain a distance from the horse. The apparatus looked like what the old mustang hunters used as they chased down wild ponies with trucks.
Placing the loop over the pinto’s head, with Emmett as far removed as he could be, Chloe removed the halter. She placed it in the bleach along with the bridle.
The walk to the beach, holding the horse at a distance with the long stick, was easier than Emmett expected. The pinto was willing and schooled in the foibles of human beings, so he made it easy. He was also used to the surf and entered it eagerly. The little guy was familiar with and enjoyed the wet. By the time he was thoroughly soaked in salt water, the two were best buds.
Chapter 15
Time passed inexorably. Relentless, the hours crept along, and both Chloe and Andy tracked their days by the amount of kindness they could visit on each other. There was nothing in either of their natures that would have made it otherwise, but now they had a special incentive to curb sharp tongues or impulsive actions.
They made love every day, several times a day. Andy worried that he was abusing Chloe’s generosity and backed off. He found her crying in the shower within days. Worming it out of her, she finally admitted that she thought he no longer wanted her, that she felt neglected, and she did not know what to do to make him happy again. Andy realized he had been rejecting her in an effort to be sympathetic to her needs, while her needs were really in having him in every way. He wanted her just as badly as she wanted him but was unsure of being too aggressive. They agreed to be clear of their intentions when one wanted the other, because as she said, “We don’t have time to screw around.” They laughed until they rolled on the floor. He stopped worrying, and they surpassed their former efforts as Chloe took the lead.
Autumn was getting closer. The leaves would soon start to turn, and Chloe very much wanted to enjoy them. They made no effort to mark the days, and they lost track of time. Two months seemed much shorter as time passed, particularly when they only had a general idea of when it started.
Walks got longer. There were animals to release and beauty to admire.
As Chloe watched, her brother blossomed. Where he had been a sullen child, prone to sudden rages and spite, he became a young man with a kind intent. His immaturity still allowed him to make impulsive comments, some of which hurt, but he was at least starting to recognize words as they left his mouth. Soon, Chloe thought, he will be thinking before he speaks.
The young man had gained weight as well. With all the exercise he got in the attempt to stave off loneliness and boredom, removed from his sister and her boyfriend, weight loss would have been expected. He instead built muscle as he rode the little pinto and then ran beside it, playing on the sand expanses. Daily, they would swim in the cold surf.
The halter fared poorly after bleaching. Soon after soaking it lost all color and then started to fray and fall apart. Memories from his scouting days helped Emmett to fashion a halter from the lariat. Knowing his knots proved useful, and he practiced the ones he remembered daily to stave off boredom. When he found dead seals on the beach, he used his knots and the little pony to drag them past the creek entering the ocean to the south.
The little horse was doing well, too. He regained the weight he had lost on short rations. Staked at night on fresh grass, he moved from campsite to campsite in a rotation around the rear of the parking area to the south. Emmett called him “Bat Masterson” at first, after a character he had seen in ancient reruns. The name proved too unwieldy, so he searched for another. A man that rode a pinto in an old television series inspired him, and he began to use “Little Joe” and eventually just “Joe.”
One day the mare showed up on the beach. She was skittish and charged forward and retreated in an effort to get Joe to follow her. Emmett was glad that the bridle was on and clutched firmly in his hand. The little horse was excited to see his old stablemate, and Emmett did not know what he would have done if the pinto had been loose and taken off. The mare showed up again the next day. Emmett considered shooting her. She was dangerous in her efforts to steal the pinto.
The third day Emmett woke determined to fix the problem. Sooner or later the mare might show up in camp at night, and he feared what the result would be. He wanted to avoid shooting the obstinate buckskin, but he was prepared to. First, he would try something else.
Sure enough, the recalcitrant mare showed up, right on schedule. As she approached, Emmett leapt onto Joe’s back and thumped his heels into the horse’s sides. Practice favored him as he and his mount became a single creature, and they chased after the mare. Joe was not as fast as the unladen mare, but he was in better condition from consistent exercise. They gave the buckskin a close race to the rocks under the lighthouse. She retreated into the surf and disappeared around the outcropping. That was not good enough for Emmett. Careful of his pony’s footing on the rocks in the crashing waves, he dismounted and led Joe past the danger. As the rocks underfoot gave way to sand, and the buckskin reappeared on the beach to the north, Emmett once again mounted his charge. Again they were joined in a contest of speed, and the mare started to panic as she was being chased. She was flagging as they reached a beach access to the interior. Emmett drew his pistol and fired three rounds into the air on the heels of the fleeing horse. The loud report put the fear of God into her, and the mare surged up and out of sight.
The story made for wonderful conversation as the three companions shared a campfire that night. Marshmallows, hard from time in the pantry, softened and often ignited on the skewers that Andy and Chloe used. Sitting across and away from the fire, under his cabin porch roof, Emmett gave advice freely. All of them laughed, often and well.
The next day, Emmett and Joe had the beach to themselves.
§
The presence behind the moving curtain studied the couple in the house across the court and sometimes out of curiosity followed them for short distances. Once they were tailed into the fields from a distance, but when their tracker walked up on them in the act of having sex, the shadow decided to stick to the neighborhood.
Relieved that they had not searched the house she was occupying, she wondered why. It never occurred to her that the people wanted to avoid bodies in the immediate vicinity. The houses on the court were the only ones untouched. Except by her. She found ways into them. She found ways into all of them, including the one that the couple had commandeered.
The only reason she broke into houses was to relieve the awful boredom. She wore her mask faithfully as she peered about and never touched anything.
Once she determined that the two lovers were going to leave her house alone, she spent most of her time in the basement with her game machine or on her comlink. The net was still up and would be as long as there was power. All of the automatic systems were functional. But there was nothing new anymore.
Bored to tears by the lack of new Hollywood gossip or even news, the girl
was having a difficult time coping. There was no one famous to investigate and envy. There was no one to speak to and trade jibes. There was no one to judge and find wanting. God, IT WAS SO BORING. Sometimes she even considered shutting the comlink…OFF. But she just could not bring herself to do it…she might miss something. At least the gaming system in the basement was working.
Noticing that the couple disappeared up the road every afternoon in their little off-road buggy, bearing gifts, the girl wondered where they went. She could have jumped into the car in the garage and followed them, but she liked being behind the scenes. Besides, even though they seemed nice enough, exposing her presence might be dangerous.
When the two blocked the road on arrival, the girl decided that they were serious threats. That was fine. So was she. She carried a knife just in case.
The crate on the back of the UTV was always filled with canned goods, vegetables, and sometimes with white, plastic jugs. Short of some very large picnics, they must be making a delivery. Once she figured out that the bottles contained bleach, determining the reason behind it took some serious thought. Her bet was on the delivery, and the bleach suggested something.
She avoided the house after that, but she remained curious.
Finally, the mystery got to her. She had to find out what was going on. She knew how far the road went. She had driven it before camping out in her house. There were several houses up the road, but she feared approaching them, and that meant she was unable to use the vehicles in their drives unless she could figure out how to start them without a key or a code. It was worth a try, but then she almost laughed at how silly she had been.