Tire Iron swings high, aiming for Leon's head. Leon notices and sweeps the blow away with his staff, transferring the movement into a counter strike which catches Tire Iron's meaty shoulder, the big man tilting his head at the last second. Tire Iron pushes Leon back and aims another strike to the head, missing by inches. Leon swings the staff around but it's blocked to the side. With Leon in range, Tire Iron swings low, catching him square in the stomach. The blow sends shockwaves of pain through Leon’s body, stealing the air from his lungs and sending him to his knees. Tire Iron sneers down as he raises his weapon above his head, prepping the death strike. But before he can swing he is waylaid by Maya, the smallest of us, who launches herself at the behemoth butcher knife in hand. She swipes wildly, opening a deep gash in his arm before he shoulders her hard and sends her flying toward the curb. As he turns back to Leon, he is met with a face full of pepper spray from Emily. He screams and swings blindly, his fist catching her across the face and sending her sprawling to the ground.
A rage unlike anything he has ever felt overtakes Leon as he sees Emily fall. He rushes forward and explodes into Tire Iron with a violent fury, taking him to the ground. Tire Iron tries to lift his head but he is immediately rocked by a vicious punch from Leon. He punches him once, twice, three more times before unsheathing his knife, and plunging it into Tire Iron's chest. He pulls it free only to plunge it back in, again and again, howling in rage and painting himself in blood.
I catch everything in brief flashes, my attention focused on my own battle. Baseball Bat swings in furious flurries—diagonally, vertically, horizontally—each swing so fast after the other it's all I can do but dodge them. He swings high: aiming for my head as if it were a ball, my neck the tee, and he's aiming for the fences. I duck just in time and swing the hammer around, trying for an uppercut to his face. But at the last second he leans away and steps back, keeping his advantage in reach. He swings low this time, trying for my knee and I have to jump away.
If I continue to stand toe to toe with this monster, eventually I’ll lose. I need to shift the paradigm. As he charges forward, I do just that. I cock my arm back and throw the hammer through the air as hard as I can, smashing square against his nose in a spray of blood. A normal man might go down, might at least clutch his face in pain, but not him. The man is an absolute brute, staggering forward in a growling rage. But he's unsteady, the blow slowing his movements, making him sloppy. It's the advantage I need. When he swings, I'm ready, ducking under it and unsheathing my knives as I do so. I spin around him, jumping on his back as I go. He tries to buck me off but I hold on, sinking both blades into his neck and coating my hands in blood. He falls to his knees and I gain my feet. He clutches at his throat, eyes panicked. Scared. He knows his sins: knows what waits for him in death. He crashes forward and lands on his face, his body spasming, blood still pouring from his throat and pooling around his head.
The rage still flows through me. I turn, looking for another threat, another attacker, but there's no one left to fight. Emily, Maya, and Felix stand together in silent dismay, watching on as Leon goes berserk on Tire Iron's corpse, a soul-rattling howl coming from his mouth. I move to pull him off but Felix grabs my arm, stopping me. "Let him get it out of his system," he says quietly. I look at him a long moment. Of the three of us, Felix has always been the most even-keeled, bringing a sense of wisdom and reason to our trio. I’ll trust him on this.
Finally, his voice hoarse and muscles limp, Leon lets the blade fall, exhausted. He remains motionless for a long while after, facing away from us. Slowly, he stands and turns our way. Blood drenches his shirt and splatters across his face, standing out dark and angry against his mocha colored skin. He looks pale. Lost. As if he has just woke from a nightmare and has no idea where he is. In a way, I suppose he did. He stares at his hands as they begin to tremble. Feet failing him, he falls to his knees and crumples into himself, shaking with the aftermath of whatever just consumed him.
Emily is the first of us to react, stepping forward with a towel and shirt draped over her shoulder and a jug of water in hand. She drops to her knees beside him, laying her hand against his cheek as she does so. At her touch the shakes stop and his eyes rise to meet hers, tears falling freely. Emily washes the blood from his face and changes out his shirt with a slow tenderness. Once finished, her hand finds his cheek once more, and in his eyes I see something change. No words are exchanged. No soft assurances whispered. They remain still and staring, silently acknowledging to one another what they have kept repressed for so long. I'm left in awe of the sight of them—that such a beautiful and tranquil moment could occur in the wake of such a heedless act of violence. Emily reaches for his hand as they both gain their feet. She leans forward, whispering into his ear briefly before joining us.
There's an awkwardness in the air between us, the high of battle gone, and the aftermath of what we’ve done heavy on our shoulders. Moments later the air is broken by clatters of gunfire in the distance, reminding us of our plight and that we must move forward.
"Alright...let's get going," I say, taking point once again as we continue our trek south.
We walk alert and edgy, the attack still fresh on our minds. I feel nauseous. Disgusted. The pain of what I did settling down deep inside me. I know it was justified, and that I only did what I had to do to keep us alive, but it doesn't help. There's no diluting the pain. It's permanent. An act no amount of justification can totally alleviate. I glance back often, positive my friends must feel the same hollowness as I do. It doesn't make me feel better knowing this, just sad that it had to happen.
When the sun lies nearly flat in the sky, and the clouds stretch in swathes of red, we finally find a sporting goods store. Glass crunches underfoot as we enter through the shattered entrance. It's in rough shape: racks overturned, merchandise strewn all over, shards of glass clinging to empty displays. Still, it's not picked clean as I feared, and it's deserted. It takes a while to unearth everything, but eventually we end up with a nice pile of supplies: two three man tents; sleeping bags; sunscreen; bug spray; two compasses; sports watches that survived the pulse; water purification tabs; magnesium bar and fire starting kit; sunglasses; flashlights; tarp; paracord; filtered canteens; hiking boots and clothes; and high-end hiking backpacks among others.
Once we’ve collected what I consider to be essentials, I move towards the front of the shop, seeking a moment of quiet while they continue to search the store. I look above the buildings and watch as the first sun of this strange new world sets. It’s been a long day to say the least, and I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around it all. Perhaps I never will, and I’ll just have to continue to adapt and move forward as I’ve done so far. Still, it’s incredible to think I woke up this morning expecting a day of fun and laughter. How wrong I was.
It’s a beautiful sunset, one I was never even supposed to appreciate. It was supposed to be a backdrop—something noticed, but not really observed—like a painting hanging in a busy office. I was supposed to have a solid buzz by now, laughing at something Felix said or planning a prank with Leon. There wasn't supposed to be blood under my fingernails and an ache in my chest. And the thing is, I know today was only a taste of what is to come. It hasn’t even been a full day, and already things have fallen so hard. It makes me realize just how fragile our society really was. It always looked so strong, so secure, so organized. But it was all an illusion. The powerful governments and grand armies and everything else we once thought unbreakable, broke like Humpty Dumpty falling from his wall, and I know there’s no putting it back together again.
I’m afraid: of how much worse things will become; of how I can possibly hope to keep us alive; of all the ways I might fail because I'm just a man, who in all reality, doesn't know what the hell he’s doing. An excited cheer from behind reaches my ears as something is pulled from the rubble. Felix murmurs something, and despite everything we've been through, laughter rings from my friends inside. I find myself smiling at the s
ound, can feel it fill up the pit of worry that's slowly eaten away at me over the day. It's like I told Maya earlier: whatever I face, I don't face it alone. I have those I love by my side to help pull me through.
“Nice find man,” I tell Felix when I make my way back inside.
He grins, raising the crossbow higher for my inspection. "Not the best model in the world, but beggars can’t be choosers," he says.
I take it in my hands, aiming down the sights even though my knowledge of crossbows is negligible. Guns I know, having gone hunting with my dad from a young age, not to mention the countless afternoons of shooting at Felix's Uncle Frank's. A huge bear of a man, I don't think I've ever known his face without a smile. He would open up his vast collection of firearms to us, only asking in return for us to clean them out when we finished, and a couple hours work to compensate for the bullets. It's a trade that probably cost him hundreds over the years, but never once did he complain.
"It'll do," I say, handing it back to him. "I take it you didn't find any more?"
"Unfortunately, no," he replies. "Found about a dozen hunting knives though. Good quality. Sure as hell beats what we have now."
"Could definitely come in handy," I say, looking over the pile we've amassed.
"Oh and I almost forgot, I think I might have found our way home." He says this casually, but I can hear the smile in his voice. I eye him skeptically when he hands over a book. The Colorado Trail: Official Guidebook, reads the front cover. I look up at him, unable to keep the smile off my face.
Chapter 4
We set up camp inside an abandoned accounting firm we have commandeered for the evening. Leon helps Emily string up tarps along the front of the office, allowing us to light a lantern without it spilling out into the night. She alone is able to reach him right now, the attack from earlier still haunting my friend. I tried talking with him but I doubt he grasped much of what I said, keeping his replies short and quiet, staring at the floor and refusing to meet my eyes. I hope it's just shell-shock and that he’ll be alright with time. If we’re going to have a shot in hell getting back home, we’ll need him. I can’t do this without him.
We cook burgers over the small portable grill plundered from the sporting goods store, the smell of sizzling meat testing my patience with each second that passes. Once it's finished I pace myself, savoring each and every bite as we settle down for the first time since leaving the apartment. After the day we’ve had the simple meal is exactly what we need, and I’m grateful to have it as so many lay dead or hungry tonight. We talk and eat, and for a while I can almost pretend we really are camping with the lantern’s soft glow and dark shadows surrounding us. We don’t talk about the day's trek, or what the plan is for tomorrow, or worry if our families are safe. For the first time since breakfast we allow ourselves to talk as friends, no agenda other than enjoying one another's company.
When the food is gone, the dishes washed, and I hear the first yawn as we lounge around, I broach the subject of where we go from here. “I know everyone's tired, but I think we should work out a plan for tomorrow.” I pause to make sure I have their focus. "We’re only an hour or two from leaving the city behind. What we need to figure out is how we proceed the rest of the way. We can head west, get on 285 and follow the interstate. That way might be quicker, but we'll also be on an interstate full of stranded travelers. We roll through packed with everything we have, and we’ll be a huge target for an ambush or attack. Not only that, we have to think about the towns we'll have to bypass along the way. You have to consider they might not want us there, especially when hordes of stranded people start drifting their way. They might even have blockades keeping people out. To be honest, the more I think about it, the more I don't like it.”
“Ok, so what’s option B?” Emily asks, rolling her arms in a get on with it motion, straight to the point as usual. “Felix may have found us a safer route.” I turn toward him with a nod.
“The Colorado Trail,” he starts off, passing around the guidebook. "It'll add more miles, but it's bound to be a safer route. And it's going to have more resources: food, water, even medicine if you know what to look for. Those same things will be a lot harder to come by on the road. I'm not saying the trail will be without risk. There's some intense hiking involved, and a lot of the areas will be high elevation. Not to mention the EMP will end up forcing a lot of people from the cities into the forest, seeking refuge. But all things considered, I think it's our best bet."
“I agree,” I say.
“It’s settled then?” Emily asks aloud. Leon and Maya both nod their agreement, legitimizing the plan. “Alright, tomorrow we head for the Waterton Trailhead," I announce. "We should leave before dawn, try and beat the crowds as best we can.” I wish that is all I had to say—that I could curl up in my sleeping bag and try to forget the horrors of the day. But I know it's not that simple. What happened earlier isn’t something you can just sweep under the rug and pretend didn’t happen. And it needs to be addressed before we can move on from it.
"So...about the attack earlier," I start. The sleepy air vanishes at my words. Emily shudders, her eyes immediately looking to Leon who stiffens beside her. Opposite them, Maya hugs her pack closer to her body, a gesture making her look years younger. Felix tilts his head and looks at me, wondering where I'm going with this. "It had to be done," I continue. "They made it perfectly clear what their intentions were. We couldn't just hand over our carts and walk away. Without them, we don't survive this. And honestly, I don't believe they would have let us go even if we did hand them over. People like that have always been around: those who prey on the weak, looking for ways to sate their sick thirsts. The only difference now is they no longer have to hide in the shadows, pretending to be anything other than what they are. If we didn't stop them...I don't even want to think of what they might have gone on to do—the lives they might have ruined before someone came along and did."
"Still, knowing all this doesn't make what we did any easier to bear. I feel what I did. Knowing it was justified, and that I only did what I had to doesn't ease the pain from having to do it. But I'll tell you this: I'd rather feel this pain a hundred times over than watch a single one of you die. So whatever you're feeling right now, just know that you're not alone—that you're not the only one who had to do the necessary evil to keep us alive. There may come a time when we will once again be forced to do what's necessary in the name of survival. And if that time should come, just remember why it has to be done."
Tears fall from Leon's eyes, my words reaching through that icy wall he's built in the aftermath of the attack. I walk to him and hug him as a brother, letting him know I'm in this with him. Felix comes next, a hand resting on each of our shoulders. Emily and Maya join last, filling the empty spaces around him. I don't know how long we stand here, offering one another comfort and strength, only that when we pull apart I feel better. Lighter. The burden I've felt, now shared among us. Tears shine in all our eyes, the moment we shared that powerful. And when I meet Leon’s eyes once again I see the wall begin to come down—see him start on the path back to us—and I know my friend will be alright.
We talk for a while after, but it’s not long before sleep calls to us and we settle in for the night. We've agreed it best to keep someone standing watch throughout the night, and I volunteer for the first shift with Felix following after. I lean against the wall and stare out through the gap of tarp. The moon is bright tonight, illuminating the streets and buildings a watery blue. It's quiet. Few figures walk past, none of which look in our direction. I guess accounting services are pretty low on people's priority lists right now.
As the shift wears on, my mind begins to wander. I find myself thinking back on a trip I once took to Navajo Lake with Leon and Felix, the summer before senior year. Our last night there Leon and Felix passed out early, but I stayed up late into the night. I sat down by the water’s edge for a long time, watching as the moon drifted across the sky and reflected off the surface of t
he lake. I remember thinking I had one more year and then it would be time to enter the real world: the world of moving out, and growing up, and finding a way to pay for everything that had always been handed to me. I remember feeling like my whole life stood on the precipice of change and it frightened me, knowing in a year’s time everything would be different. But then it happened, and I learned, and I adapted, and the world that once frightened me became the new normal.
As I did then, I once more feel my life standing on the precipice of change, only this time I haven’t the slightest clue of what is to come. I can’t see past tomorrow, let alone a week, a month, a year from now. But despite how dark the prospect looks, I will not be smothered by that darkness. I will not allow myself to be crippled by my fear. Things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get better. I’ve accepted that. Still, I have faith I can withstand whatever lies ahead of me, because there is one thing I have which many do not: something more important than my life to live for. The deep breathing and slight snores of my friends fill the silence around me, and I can’t keep the smile from spreading across my face. Yes. I have faith these storms will pass. I have faith that better days lay ahead.
Echoes of a Dying World (Book 1) Page 4