ALL IS SILENCE

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ALL IS SILENCE Page 5

by Robert L. Slater


  “Careful.” Zach kept his voice low and calm. “She can't call you back if your phone's broke.”

  “That's why I aimed it at the couch, stupid.”

  “Fine.” Zach felt his anger rising. “I'm going outside. When you want my help or want to treat me some other way than shitty, come find me.” He took the other Pop Tart and headed for the door.

  “Zach. Wait.” She stepped toward him, tears in her eyes. “I'm sorry. I'm a shitty friend.”

  “No. No, Lizzie. You're not.” He sighed and let her come to him. He wrapped his arms around her and felt her warmth as she shook with tears. “Jess is probably out of cell range or the power is out or something.”

  “Yeah. Maybe,” she mumbled. “Thanks.” Eventually her arms gave him a squeeze and released. “You got a cigarette?”

  Zach let her go. “No. I thought you quit.”

  “I did. Mostly.” Her thumb went back in her mouth. She looked down at her feet.

  “I did. Completely. Even with Dad smoking.”

  “Well, goody for you. I gotta go to the store. Come with me, please.” Lizzie grabbed his hands and pulled him down the stairs.

  Zach let her take the lead. She needed the distraction.

  Outside, the sun shone off the droplets of water on the mat of leaves covering the still and quiet streets and sidewalks.

  Stay chill. She’ll come out of it. Zach kicked a beer can.

  Lizzie jogged away from him. “Come on,” she said.

  He increased his stride to keep up with her.

  At the Chevron station, Zach tugged on the doors, but they were locked. “No good. Don't really feel like setting the alarm off. Might attract attention.”

  “Maybe we want attention. I want a cigarette,” Lizzie said.

  “Okay. There are other doors, 'kay?” Zach trotted around the side and tried the door into the garage half. It opened. “Over here.” He stepped inside and walked softly. It was spooky quiet, like everywhere else. Like any minute the owner would jump out of a closet.

  Lizzie shoved the door aside, banging it against the cabinet.

  Zach spun around. “Was that necessary?”

  “I want a cigarette.”

  “You already said that.” Zach stepped inside the store. “What kind?”

  “Virginia Slims.”

  “You're kidding, right?” He reached down a pack of V’s from behind the counter and tossed them to her. The pack of Marlboros caught his eye. He had always figured if he was gonna kill himself slowly it might as well be for the Marlboro Man. But the more his dad smoked the less he wanted to, not that it was easy to quit.

  “I used to steal my mom's. Nothing else tastes quite as bad!” She opened the pack automatically. “Saw a dead guy two, three days ago, looter, I guess, shot on the sidewalk.” Her eyes were searching.

  I don’t want to die on the sidewalk. “Light?” Zach grabbed a football-shaped lighter from a bin. “Not many people left to shoot us.” He flicked it and she inhaled.

  “Coffee. Hey, they've got one of those instant espresso makers.” She was bouncing, barely in control. “You want one?”

  “Sure. They got caramel?” Zach wandered the store stuffing candy bars and jerky in his pockets; he tore a beef stick and cheese combo open. “Spose this stuff’ll kill me, but not like cigarettes.” He took bit some of both. “Damn that salt and fat tastes good.”

  “Here's your coffee.” Lizzie balanced the coffee and a lid in one hand, the cigarette in the other.

  Her phone crooned Shelby Lynne’s “Things are Tough All Over.” The coffee flew toward him. Zach tried to snag it but only ended up keeping what stayed in the cup from falling. The hot coffee burned through his jeans. “Dammit, Lizzie!”

  “Jess? You're alive?” Lizzie answered the phone, focused. “She's alive, Zach.” She spun him around.

  “Lizzie! Watch the fricken' cig. You're gonna burn me again!”

  “Sorry,” Lizzie said over her shoulder as she barreled into the door. It didn't move. She turned, looking stunned. Her hand went to her head and she grimaced, then broke up laughing. “Door’s locked.”

  “Jesus, Lizzie.” Zach tried to stay angry, then shook his head and joined in her laughter. “Jess,” he hollered at the phone. “Glad you're okay. Lizzie was pretty freaked.” Then in a quieter voice to Lizzie. “I’m going outside to scout around.”

  7

  LIZZIE HELPED ZACH MAKE SPAGHETTI for dinner. Zach had her chop onions and garlic to go with the ground beef they liberated from the neighbor’s freezer. How much longer are we going to be able to get relatively fresh meat? She watched the burger sizzle in the skillet.

  “Maybe we should have shoved the rest of the meat in the stores in freezers before it went bad. What happens when the power goes out?” Lizzie asked.

  “The dark ages begin again?” Zach laughed.

  Lizzie didn’t. “They haven't already?”

  “Yeah. I guess.” Zach looked thoughtful. “We’re probably better off than some places. We’re on hydroelectric power. The rivers won’t stop. I bet power will run for quite a while. What happened to all the nuclear power plants? I hope to hell they’re shut down.”

  “Can they just shut them down? If they don’t have people monitoring them—” She made an explosion sound and her hands flew apart.

  “Not a lot we can do about mushroom clouds,” Zach said. “But I’m pretty sure they just melt down and spew radiation.”

  “That makes me feel lots better.” Lizzie took the spatula from Zach and stirred the blend of meat and veggies. “Mmm. Smells good.” The aroma was a hundred times better than any frozen pizza or burritos.

  After dinner, they settled in to watch another movie. She picked Highlander from her dad’s collection, put it on and leaned back into Zach’s warmth.

  Part way through a sex scene in the movie, she felt a hard lump in the small of her back. Zach shifted uncomfortably.

  Zach had always been her ‘buddy guy,’ like a brother, despite his ridiculous crush. But watching the actors make love on the screen and feeling the heat of him in her back, a warm tingle spread through her body and her breathing deepened. “Uh, I forgot about this scene. You want me to change it?”

  “No. It’s just… Yeah. Maybe—”

  She paused it.

  “Liz?” His voice came out somewhere between a croak and a gasp. “You know I’ve been in love with you since we were like ten?’

  “As soon as you met me.” She couldn’t help teasing him; her face hovered inches in front of his.

  Zach stared into her eyes. “I want to kiss you.”

  “Then shut up and do it.” Her voice came out husky, every part of her ached for him—for a human connection.

  He leaned in. His breath, tempered by the spices of dinner, was warm on his lips. His eyes were closed. For a moment she wondered what her breath smelled like—smoke, an ashtray. But she let her eyes close, too.

  As their lips touched, she convulsed in laughter. An image of him peeing on the wall and writing his name flashed in her mind.

  “Lizzie.” He stared at her with those sad, puppy dog eyes.

  “Sorry.” She took a deep breath. Zach wanted her. Desperately. The warmth in her own jeans flared; she wanted to have him. Not just another man hug.

  “Please,” he whispered, his hands grasped her hips and pulled him toward her.

  His eyes begged her for more. She wanted to give him what he wanted, her. She slipped her hand under his shirt. He shivered at her touch. “You want to come upstairs with me?”

  His breath stopped and he nodded.

  She clasped his hand and led him up the stairs and into her bedroom. Streetlight lit the mattress; she tossed a pile of clothes off the bed.

  “Don’t kiss me on the lips and don’t say a word.” She lay down and slid her jeans off.

  He lay next to her.

  She tugged the covers over them as she slid toward him. She pulled off her shirt. Her breasts pressed against h
im through her bra.

  Zach wrapped his arms around her.

  Her hands moved down and loosened his cramped jeans.

  His mouth opened, his breath escaped, as the jeans came off.

  She felt his hands range across her bare back, his touch tingled.

  Lizzie tugged at his shirt.

  Zach sat up and pulled it over his head, his muscular chest silhouetted in the street lamps’ glow.

  Her breath sighed out.

  Soon there were no clothes between them. He slid back under the covers and she guided him where she wanted him. Then they moved together.

  Zach’s breath caught. “Oh, god.”

  Lizzie smiled. “Yes.” She recognized the uncontrolled response as her body followed his.

  A few minutes later he pulled away from her and lay beside her, one hand scrunched up underneath, caressing her shoulder and the other hand resting on her stomach as her breathing returned to normal.

  Lizzie lay awake listening to Zach’s soft breath in her ear, his arms around her nude body. SHIT! What the hell was I thinking? She’d been lonely. And he’d been princely. But how am I getting out of this? He’ll want more, and after all the years I kept him firmly in the friend zone.

  She had to end it. Fast. Mama said to kill a snake you do it quick or risk getting bit. She had to kill the snake. But for now she lay there relishing the heat of another human body. Just another minute, she thought as she closed her eyes.

  The next thing she knew she was alone, covers wrapped warmly around her, and the smell of cooking teasing her nose.

  Lizzie snagged her clothes off the floor and pulled them under the covers to dress. Then she sat on the bed with her head in her hands. “Shit.”

  She heard steps and glanced up to see Zach at the top of the stairs.

  He knocked on the door, but didn’t come in. “Pancakes’ll be ready in a few. You want to go out, free some more cats and dogs and maybe get me a new truck?”

  “Sure,” she said. Was last night just a dream?

  He didn’t mention anything at all during breakfast. Like it hadn’t even happened. What the fuck? Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am? He got what he wanted and that was it? Lizzie nibbled at a piece of toast, trying to calm down. It was silly for her to be angry at him. He hadn’t led her upstairs.

  They went out after breakfast.

  “Let’s stop at Trader Joe’s. I want to leave some food out for Spike,” Lizzie said, pulling herself into the cab of Zach’s old pickup.

  “You think he’s still around?” Zach pulled away from the curb.

  Spike was nowhere to be seen at Trader Joe’s. Lizzie left him a Snickers bar anyway. By the look on his face, Zach thought Spike was a figment of her imagination or something.

  They went to the Toyota dealership; Zach had a plan. He wandered up and down the rows while Lizzie lounged in the comfortable leather seat of a Toyota Avalon. Finally, he picked out a black Highlander. He grinned at her. “‘There can be only one!’”

  In the showroom, Lizzie spotted a big black cabinet. I’ll bet you it’s locked.” It was. It had a code panel, so all you had to do to open it, was know the code. It looked like it was wired to an alarm and nothing short of plastic explosives was likely to open it. And then only in the movies.

  “Damn.” Zach looked like he’d lost his puppy.

  “Let’s try someplace a little lower tech.”

  At a used car lot down the street, they had to break into the office. Nobody was there to protest as the glass tinkled to the ground, nobody holding people accountable to the law. They found a key rack with all the keys labeled and accessible.

  Zach found a solid-looking Ford Expedition. “At least it’s not the Eddie Bauer edition.” He climbed in and it fired right up with a growl. “Good thing gas is cheap and plentiful. These things get crappy mileage.”

  “Let’s go scavenging.” Lizzie glanced back in the giant vehicle. They would really be able to get a haul in this thing.

  “Gotta fill up the tank,” Zach said.

  “The Tank?” Lizzie grinned. “I like it.”

  “I meant the gas tank.” He grinned back. “Let’s go get some stuff. Christmas comes early this year.”

  “Right. First we check and see if there are animals to free.” Her brain created a list of procedures in her head. “We need something to break windows.”

  “Just a sec’.” Zach stuck his head inside the Tank. “Here.” He held one of those car safety hammers. It broke windows cleanly.

  “Then we look for cell phones with chargers.”

  “Why?”

  “If one cell phone quits,” Lizzie explained, “if there’s an unpaid bill, a network goes down, whatever—we have back-ups.”

  Zach looked skeptical, but looked like he would humor her. “After that we get anything useful.”

  Lizzie grinned, “Or things we want.”

  They loaded bags with food from cupboards, tools from garages. Zach grabbed a nice laptop. Lizzie snagged a killer camera, one of those SLR Digitals with a monster lens like someone was compensating.

  Zach presented her with a Crown Royal bottle, full and still in the velvety purple bag. They took their time in the houses that didn’t smell and did a quick in and out for pets in the ones that did.

  Lizzie drank a slug of the whiskey and filled the bag with jewelry and cell phones. She shrugged off the morbidness and morality.

  When Lizzie got to the Sunset overpass, she headed back on the other side of the street. Zach hustled across. She noted with amusement that he checked to make sure no cars were coming.

  They went up to the Church of the Latter Day Saints. The door opened. Inside it was even more creepy and deadly quiet than the houses. Lizzie watched Zach stop a few steps in. Then he shook his head. He turned his face white.

  “What?” Lizzie asked, stepping forward.

  Zach held his hand up. “Don’t.”

  “Okay. Not sure God’s here anyway.” Being inside a church set her skin on edge, even before Zach saw something. “Let’s skip the churches after this.”

  “Yeah.” At the next house, Zach stepped out of the garage with a chainsaw. “Always wanted one of these electric start ones.” He fired it up and grinned.

  Lizzie paused at the door of the little cottage next door.

  Zach let it idle and stop.

  “Cause we need that?” she yelled.

  “I guess you’re right. But I might want to come back for it. How am I going to remember which house it’s at?”

  “I don’t know. Cut a tree down?”

  “Great idea.”

  “Jesus, Zach. I was joking.” But he was doing it. Poor spindly little tree was big around as her thigh. The chainsaw roared and spit saw dust. Zach grinned at her as it fell.

  “Zach Riley, sometimes I wonder why people think I’m crazy.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” He stuck out his tongue

  The Tank got full as they hit house after house. They were going to have to go home soon. Zach came toward her with a guitar case. He could hardly contain himself. “Wait for it. Close your eyes.”

  She did, smiling.

  “Okay, open ‘em. It’s an SG. Dark red.” It lay nestled in its black, soft bed.

  “I know, stupid.” Lizzie reached out to touch it. “Like Angus Young’s. Way cool. I always wanted to learn to play guitar, but the band needed a bass player.” Supposedly her dad played. She took the guitar from the case surprised at the weight. “It’s as heavy as my bass.”

  He gave her a lopsided smile as he gently removed it from her hands and sat on the cement wall. He played the opening few bars of “Stairway to Heaven.”

  “No ‘Stairway,’” Lizzie said, sitting beside him.

  “Denied!” He played the first parts of “Hell’s Bells.”

  “Cool.”

  “I only know the beginnings.” Zach stopped playing. “Hurts my fingers after a bit.”

  “Yeah. Keep it. Maybe we can learn to play something
together.” She stood up. Her fingers rubbed where her own callouses should have been. It had been too long. “I’ve written some lyrics. A couple bass lines.”

  “You’re probably way too good for me.”

  “I definitely am,” she said.

  He laughed.

  “You gonna try and catch up? I got eight cats, three dogs and two cell phones with chargers. Uh… thirteen. You?”

  “Four cats, six dogs and one cell phone. No charger, but it’s the same as mine so it counts. Everything’s worth one point?”

  “Eleven.” Lizzie left Zach to put away his guitar. “I get the next one.” She jogged across the empty lot to the back. A sound stopped her as she came up to the back door. Strange how cats voices and cries sometimes sound so human. She tried the handle—locked. She pulled out her car-hammer, turned away and pounded the window with the pointy part. The glass shattered and she reached in to turn the knob. The yowling had stopped. She stepped in carefully.

  This house smelled like shit and death. There was a bag of cat food dumped out on the floor. Formulated for mature cats. She heard movement. “Here, kitty.”

  Small feet sounded on linoleum. A small human voice answered. “Da da?” A little boy, diaper-less and rashy trundled slowly toward her. His eyes were wide and red.

  8

  “OH, MY GOD!” SHE WANTED to hold the little boy and comfort him, but his smell repulsed her. He started to hyperventilate. Here comes the howl. Sure enough, like Jayce at that age, he opened his lungs and bellowed, his cry ragged. The piercing yowl of a child in need rose in volume by the second.

  “Hey, Sissie’s here.” Lizzie touched him on the shoulder, where he was mostly clean. His little body stiffened and his squall paused, but he continued to breathe hard, sucking air in and out, like a lawnmower trying to start. She pulled him into a hug. Despite his filth, she couldn’t bear his distress. She bounced him, humming the same song she’d sung to her mama. “Hush little baby…” His tense body began softening in her arms.

 

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