by C. Martens
Though Emmett wondered about the other person that Brody had mentioned, the other original inhabitant of the building, he accepted the invitation to stay. He would see what was going on and help as he could, and he could always decide to move on.
There was an inner courtyard with some grass, but the pool scared Emmett. He was afraid one of the horses could fall in. He ran a line between a railing and a tree in the back where there was some grass and tied his string.
Just off the grass in the parking lot were several vehicles that the big man indicated were free to be used. They were available to anyone of the group living in the apartments. If he wanted something different he was welcome to find it himself. If he parked it in the lot, it was to be considered community property.
Brody led him into a large room on the ground floor. Probably intended as a conference room or community center, the room had dividers folded against a wall and a kitchen at one end. There was a long table across the room next to the kitchen area and the same kind of tables with fold-up chairs filling some of the rest of the space.
There were four people present.
A man in a business suit, as filthy as he had ever seen a human being, sat in a chair with a vacant look. He was very thin and only wore one shoe. He had not shaved for a long time.
The woman at the sink was washing vegetables. Carrots and potatoes and some onions. A pair of teenagers helped her, a boy and a girl. The kids chopped what was being washed and did not look up at him. The appearance of the three told Emmett they were unrelated.
Before introductions could be made another man came in. He threw a heavy cloth bag of canned goods on a counter and unloaded it into the cupboards above. Other than a quick glance, he did not look at Emmett, either.
By Emmett’s count, that made six, including Brody. There should be three more.
In an attempt at normalcy, Brody introduced Emmett around the room. The woman at the sink looked at him in a direct way, challenging him to question her authority. Neither of the kids looked at him until he turned away. He caught them giving him a quick once over out of the corner of his eye. The man with the groceries hung back and acknowledged him with a rise of his chin. He did not look overly friendly. Everyone ignored the man in the suit.
There was a heavy, savory smell hanging in the air. Emmett supposed that there was something in the oven. The odor certainly did not come from the suited man. Surely his scent was being masked by dinner.
Everything chopped went into a pot on the stove that was already full of boiling water. The woman salted generously, added pepper and what looked like a bay leaf, and covered the pot.
While they waited, Brody pulled some gun oil and clean rags from a cupboard. He offered the use of the fixings to Emmett, and they cleaned their weapons meticulously. After cleaning the big gun, Brody pulled his pant leg up and inspected the little pistol at his ankle but did not freshen it. Apparently it was unsullied.
There was little conversation. The two kids mumbled in the corner and seemed unusually attached to the cook who sat and glared at Emmett as she waited for the food. After putting the canned goods away, the man that had brought them sat at the end of the same table they were sitting at. He looked like he might have a question, but every time Emmett looked up he ducked his head or looked away.
Something unspoken was communicated. The kids got up and pulled plates and silverware from their places and put them on the counter. The cook produced a big chunk of meat from the oven and carved it in generous slabs, leaving it in the roasting pan. She took the lid off the pot…and everybody waited.
“You’re the guest, Emmett. As the new guy, you go first,” Brody whispered.
Emmett was still wondering where the other three were. Not wanting to be rude, he walked up to the sink and washed his hands quickly. Then he filled a plate lightly and sat down where he had been. The gun oil smell competed with the roast.
Everyone else served themselves and dug in immediately. Emmett had held back in case someone wanted to bless the food. Not something he would do, but there again he wanted to be polite. No one did, and he ate. The meat was tasty and well-seasoned. The veggies not so much, but they were filling.
When he came up for air, he noticed that Brody was missing.
Emmett looked at the thin man in the suit and wondered. He had not moved, and no one had tried to force any food on him.
“We’ve tried. All of us. The guy isn’t home, if you know what I mean.” The cook shrugged. “He’ll take some water, but only when he’s alone. We find a glass on the floor next to his chair in the morning. It’s never empty, and he doesn’t pee as far as I can tell. If you touch him he goes nuts. It’s better not to.”
There was a noise in the hall. A short-haired woman wearing battle fatigues came in with a small child clutching her leg and riding her foot. She swung the kid as she walked, and the little one squealed.
Throwing food on her plate with little regard for splatter, she made her way toward Emmett’s side and asked, “Hey, is this seat taken?” indicating the chair next to him.
Emmett looked down at the kid attached to her leg. He was not sure if it was a boy or a girl, but the child was looking up at him as though it expected an answer.
“Please, have a seat.” He waved a hand toward the chair.
A sneer graced the woman’s face.
“Well, aren’t you the polite one,” she said as she settled into her seat. She moved the next chair down to accommodate the kid.
Leaning down to be face to face with the little one, she barked an order.
“Up here, kid. Time to eat.” She produced a plate from underneath her own and an extra fork. As the kid climbed out from under the table and situated the chair so it could sit next to the woman, she spilled food onto the other plate and started to cut the meat in small pieces.
She looked over her shoulder at Emmett.
“Just so we understand each other, you’re not my type.”
As a young man with a normal interest in the females of the species, Emmett had already reached that conclusion. The woman was, perhaps, a couple of years older than he and had triggered his gaydar. The way she moved and the hair gave her away.
One of his best friends, worth the trip to San Diego to see her often, had been a woman of the same persuasion. She and Emmett shared the same appreciation of women, and it was so nice to get a female perspective without any necessity for sexual tension. They could just be friends. Of course, it had taken Emmett some time to understand and appreciate that.
Still, he could not help watching her. He was filled with a need to feel the presence of others. Even in the silence he absorbed the people into him and was satisfied for the moment.
The kid wolfed the food down quickly as though starved and then pushed the plate away half full. Finished, the child grabbed the arm of the woman, pulled her down, and whispered something in her ear. The woman nodded and said something too softly for Emmett to hear, and the kid jumped off the chair and ran to the teenagers. They were waiting, and they left the room swinging the kid between them.
The woman in the fatigues was pretty, but not very. Her hair looked to have been closely cropped at one time but had grown out and was still short. She had some piercings, most in her ears, but one in an eyebrow. Between the clothing, how she carried herself, and the automatic at her hip, she looked more than a little competent to take care of herself.
Finishing her food, she pushed the plate away and turned to him.
“So, what’s your story?” She felt no need for preliminaries.
Emmett gave her the short story, advising her of the last six months spent in avoidance. Of what she already knew, and neither of them wanted to verbalize it.
The others listened, saying nothing but absorbing everything.
As soon as Emmett had divulged the details, the woman leaned to him and invited, “So, I hear you’ve got horses. Want to introduce me to them?” She swung her head in the direction of the parking lot.
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“Sure,” Emmett stood. The way the offer was made, it was clear that the others were not invited. “Let’s go.”
He leaned over as the woman moved toward the door and picked up the kid’s plate. There was still plenty to eat on it. He approached the man in the suit, and Emmett could feel the tension in the room mount. He had no intention of feeding the guy. Instead, he bent down and placed the plate at the man’s feet to one side. There was no response. The man did not move.
As Emmett followed the woman out of the room, he looked back. The cook seemed put out but said nothing. The unfriendly man got up and went out. The man in the suit focused on something no one else could see.
On reaching his ponies, introductions were made. The horses were glad to see him. His companion picked up on it.
“They like you.” She engaged him directly. One of the things that Emmett had noticed already was that she liked to make eye contact, and he wondered if it was something she had always done. Everyone he met seemed a little off. Behaviors had changed, and he wondered how he was different.
“You know horses? I mean, have you been around them, grown up with them?”
He explained that he was new to them but was learning.
“You have a name?” he asked her. “I’m Emmett.”
She hesitated for some reason and then explained as she introduced herself.
“That’s a good sign, Emmett, you introducing yourself. At least that’s my theory. The ones that stay silent and don’t ask questions or offer information are the ones that go away on us.” She offered her hand.
“Randy.”
Emmett shook it. She had more grip than most women. A comfortable pressure.
He asked the question that had been nagging at him.
“There’s supposed to be nine, and I haven’t seen the other original member of the group, have I?”
Randy concentrated on the pinto’s neck as she answered.
“Nope, she’s dead. We’ve had twenty-two people show up, total.” She looked down and scuffed the ground with a foot.
“Four were turned away after Brody questioned them, and they moved on. Of the rest, the one that was here with the cook, Becca, the other original woman, took the easy way out. She did it before Brody even showed up. Becca was alone.”
“So there were nine here, Brody said.” Emmett, understanding the inflection used in “the easy way,” had to ask. “Where’s the other one?”
“There’s only two options, Em.” Randy took the liberty of shortening his name. “She took the one that most of them use, and we had to clean up the mess. You might have noticed the grim atmosphere in there.” Nodding her head toward the building, Emmett understood.
“Three just disappeared.”
“So out of eighteen people, there are eight?” Correlating the numbers, Emmett realized that meant that seven of them had committed suicide, and of the other three, no one knew. Of the eight living here, one was catatonic.
Recognizing what those numbers meant and that they were only the tip of the iceberg, both people understood that there were many that had never left their own homes to find their way to the highway or the signs.
“The tough part is the kids. It seems like the thirteen, fourteen year olds are the most hard hit. Two of the seven were kids that age.”
Emmett switched gears. He did not want to think about it.
“So, where’s Brody? I ought to check in with him.”
“He swapped with me on the balcony. It’s his turn to stand guard. And he likes his alone time. It’s his time to grieve, so it’s probably not a good time to check in.” The direct look was back. Randy wanted to be sure that Emmett understood the point.
“So, Em, are you a good shot?”
Getting late, the lights in the parking lot came on.
As the evening wore down, the two stood by the ponies and caressed them by turns. The horses appreciated the physical attention and the voices. They relaxed and stood with their heads down and their eyes half closed.
The conversation led in many directions, and both participants investigated each other and what their capabilities were. Somehow it seemed appropriate to gauge the value in what they brought to the table. Randy gave her assessment of the others as well.
The weather was getting cooler at night. Emmett was used to it because he often spent the evening out on a porch or found a chair as he sipped tea before retiring. Randy started to hug herself and shiver once in a while. Finally she suggested they go inside.
Emmett checked his knots and thought of what the morrow held. He would have to find better accommodations for his horses.
“What about dogs? Have you had any problems?”
Randy understood his concern.
“No. Not any around here. They stay in the neighborhoods, mostly. Or out in the country. I’ve been out there and seen some pretty big packs.” She dropped her eyes. “Jesus, I used to really like dogs.”
“So you think the horses will be okay?”
“Yeah, pretty sure.”
Leading the way, Randy told him how the security was handled in the building. The third floor balcony with the gun mount was centered on the south side next to the road that bisected the highway. With a full view of the exits, it provided a secure killing field with nothing to hide behind. The ground floor directly beneath was where the population center was, except for one person. Randy occupied an apartment with a balcony overlooking the highway. She was separated from the rest and liked it that way. Explaining, she said they were all too depressed.
Concerned that Brody was going to man the security post all night, Emmett inquired about the schedule. The angry man, Jered, would relieve Brody at midnight. Jered had trouble sleeping and had volunteered.
There were five apartments that had seen use. In one, Becca had set up a home which she shared with the two teenagers and the little kid. Emmett learned it was a girl. No one could wrangle her name out of her, so they called her Sugar. The man that would soon replace Brody on watch, Jered, was in an apartment next to Becca. On the other side, Brody had a place. Everyone locked their doors, so Randy did not offer to show him inside any of the occupied ones. The unoccupied apartments were on the other side of the hall and overlooked the court. She opened a door and showed him in. The place was spartan in the extreme. A kitchen equipped with some minor necessities was the most crowded room in the place. Otherwise, there was a mattress on the floor and a pile of sheets folded in the corner.
Reading Emmett as she tracked his expressions, Randy offered, “The sheets are clean. We raided a big hotel and grabbed a bunch of them.” She laughed. “We don’t do laundry here much.”
The young man was not impressed with the accommodations. He felt uneasy, and even though he did not really believe in them, he wondered if there were ghosts in the room.
“Any chance I can get a place next to you? I’d sleep on the floor, no problem.”
Randy smiled, maybe too big. She had something in mind.
“Sure, Em. Or you could bunk with me.” Her eyes twinkled.
He almost choked. Had he gotten the wrong idea?
As she looked at his blanching face, Randy laughed. “No, baby…not that way. You can use the other bedroom. It’s even got a mattress already.”
In a show of sudden familiarity that Emmett appreciated, Randy moved close and wrapped her arm around his neck in a headlock. Her weight brought him into a crouch. Then she dragged him toward the stairs.
In a singsong voice, she mocked him, “Looks like I’ve got a roomy.” She laughed.
Chapter 23
Waking early after a restless night, Emmett leaned out over the balcony to see his ponies. He could, just barely. They looked fine, and their owner was relieved.
He could hear sounds from the bathroom off the kitchen. Randy must be in the shower.
Searching the cupboards of the small cooking area, he inspected the rest of what he could see of the apartment as well. The place had some plants, which help
ed in making the space homey, and a few pieces of furniture. Nothing heavy, but what there was seemed expensive and tasteful. He remembered the sheets last night were not from a hotel. They were purple and very soft. The quilt on the bed was in bright colors and finely stitched. The small table close to the balcony had four matching chairs. On the balcony patio itself, two chairs sat situated to look through the railing onto the road with a low table in between.
Not knowing what the customs were in breakfast etiquette, Emmett assumed it might not be communal as the meal was last night. There was milk in the fridge. Powdered, from the box on the counter, but between that and the cereal in the cupboards, he figured he could take a chance on helping himself. He took two bowls and two spoons to the table and set one of each across from where he sat with his back to the corner. He poured cereal into his bowl.
“It’s a guy thing, right?” Randy’s voice spoke softly. “Sitting in the corner? Seems like every guy I’ve ever seen does it.”
She was toweling off just free of the hall where the bathroom door was. Uninhibited, she displayed her deep brown areolas, and droplets glistened in her dark pubic hair as the sun streamed in from the east. She bent down to dry her lower legs, breasts too small to pendulum.
Being comfortable with nudity, but surprised, Emmett appraised the woman before him. She was slender with just enough flesh to have round places in spots a woman should have them. He admired her for making a clear statement about her expectations by the physicality of the display. Emmett felt sure they would get along fine.
“Breakfast, Randy.” He indicated the bowl across the table. “Choose your own cereal.”
“Want some fruit? I found an apple orchard a while back.” Randy offered the suggestion as she tied the towel around her waist.
“Sure.”
Gripping a box of cereal under her arm and a paring knife and two small apples in her hands, she sat down in the chair next to Emmett. The spot allowed her a better view out the window.
With the towel below table level, she appeared totally naked. Emmett tried not to stare at her chest.