by Amy Cook
“That’s it?” She couldn’t believe it had been so easy.
“Security ain’t so tight when it comes to people leavin’ the city, honey. It’s gettin’ back in that’s the hard part.” That was a disconcerting thought, though at the moment she was just glad she’d managed to make it this far. She turned her attention to the landscape around them.
The Outer City was different than Amiel had imagined. There was nothing but dirt and hills as far as the eye could see, except for a few long buildings decaying here and there. This part of the city had been abandoned during the beginning of the war, the uninfected inhabitants pulling together in a tighter knit and better protected center of the city. She had thought there would be more abandoned buildings, the air dark and dingy with an inescapable gloom.
The fact that the Outer City looked much like the Inner City, only somehow more peaceful and calm, was more unnerving than her original imaginings. Likewise she felt strangely edgy about the fact that they never saw a single Rabid on the way. She had been expecting the area to be teeming with them. She squinted up at the sun then, vaguely remembering news reporters mentioning that Rabids avoided direct sun exposure. Still, her expectations of the world outside of the city walls were quickly crumbling, and she hadn’t even left the Outter Walls yet. It left her wondering what else was going to be different in her new future.
When they finally stopped, it was at a large structure surrounded by thick metal and cement walls. Pressing a button on the dash of his truck, two big sections of the metal walls slid apart just wide enough for the truck to pass through. Once inside, the doors slid shut with a heavy thud that echoed with finality. Gazing out her window, she could see only a large mechanic shop structure, and what she assumed was a big oval dirt track for the bikes. Climbing out of the truck, Tandy came around and opened the door for her. Amiel smiled at the gesture just as two more Dobermans came rushing from around the side of the building, barking savagely. Amiel cringed back against the truck, and Tandy barked out a sharp command. Just like the other dogs these whimpered and sat next to him. Theirs stumpy tails wagged back and forth across the dirt, waiting for their master’s approval. He smiled down at them and rubbed their heads, much to their enjoyment. Finally peeling herself away from the truck, she took a tentative step forward. The dogs merely watched her curiously, and her heart slowed down a bit.
“More dogs,” she muttered.
“Ain’t much of a dog person are ya, honey.” Tandy smirked at her over his shoulder as he walked toward the building, dogs trotting at his heels. She quickly followed, feeling more than a little creeped out behind the walls of this small compound.
“Malinda’s always hated them. And as for dogs themselves, they’ve never seemed to enjoy my company either.”
“Ya don’t say. Always been that way?” he muttered, and she couldn’t decide if he was actually curious or just making polite conversation.
“For as long as I can remember,” she offered with a shrug. He grunted, unlocking the doors to the garage.
“Right. Well, we’ve got three days left to train ya up, girl. So we’d best get started. We’ll start with the basics. Ya’ll can help me unload your bike and start learning all the controls and gadgets.” The next four hours of daylight were spent learning every in and out of her sexy little bike. By the time they were finished, the sun was beginning to set, and Tandy told her to follow him into the shop. The doors closed behind them with a screech that set her teeth on edge. He shrugged an apology, gruffly muttering about the heat and humidity working havoc on the gears and needing to oil them again.
Once inside he gave her a quick tour around the shop, though there wasn’t much to see. Two couches laying in the middle of the shop would serve as beds. The bathroom consisted of a toilet, sink, and no shower. He shrugged at her dismal expression when seeing the bathroom, stating that he didn’t stay here often or long enough to need a shower. A large freezer in the corner and a microwave finished off the furnishings. The rest of the place was filled with all things mechanical that you would expect to see in a giant garage.
There was a pair of rickety metal stairs leading up to a catwalk around the perimeter of the shop, and she carefully ascended them to look out the windows up top. The fiery sun was setting behind the distant tree tops, dusk beginning to fall. She shivered as goose bumps shot across her skin. Rubbing at her arms in vague annoyance, she let her mind wander for just a moment. And with the wandering came the doubts.
Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to leave behind everything she had ever known, every safety she had ever been afforded. Even if Tandy didn’t turn out to be some psycho killer and taught her well, what then? How would she make it clear across the vast expanse of hostile land between here and Texas? And what if the Rabes caught her? She would either be eaten, or infected, quite possibly a little of both. She had never thought of herself as brave. Could she conjure enough bravery to risk turning into one of those monsters, just to escape her mother? Jaron’s tags against her skin suddenly grew warm, and she pulled them away from her skin to rest on the outside of her shirt. Shrugging uncomfortably, she wondered at how warm they felt to the touch. She remembered the way they had felt against Jaron’s skin, before he died, how warm they had been then, too. It would seem they had the propensity to collect body heat.
A brilliant purple flash and shrill scream from outside set her heart pounding, yanking her cruelly from her thoughts. The scream sounded hauntingly human, yet the way the hairs on her skin stood tall, she had a feeling that these were the screams of the damned. The walls were so high around the mechanic shop that she couldn’t see what lay beyond them. A morbid sense of curiosity filled her. Eyes scanning the quickly darkening night, she found herself conflicted. One side of her wished the walls were not so high, wanting to see the creature that the scream had issued from.
She’d never had a good view of a Rabid, the history teachers in school had never strayed far from anything but bland facts. Amiel had never left their protected little city, and her Mother assured her that details of the Rabids weren’t important. ‘Why worry about something you shall never face? It’s hardly ladylike conversation,’ Malinda crossly replied whenever Amiel had shown any amount of curiosity. Amiel knew she shouldn’t feel the morbid curiosities she now felt, yet somehow she felt drawn to look into the eyes of the murderers of humanity. The other more rational and fearful part of her mind knew exactly what made the sound, knew it was capable of inflicting a horrific death on her. That more rational part of her shrunk back in grateful relief of the protection offered by the walls.
“Ever seen a Rabid?” She let out a startled yelp as Tandy materialized next to her.
“Why is it that every man I know is blessed with the silent feet of a panther?” she growled quietly under her breath. He smirked slightly, but made no reply, staring outside. As they watched, more brilliant flashes of purple lit the night here and there around the walls, always followed by more angry screams.
“No, I’ve never seen one. My mother was very particular about that.” He nodded as though he expected nothing less. Knowing the way her mother ran the city, she was sure he truly hadn’t expected anything less. “What is that light we keep seeing?” she asked with a shiver as more goose bumps raced her skin from top to bottom.
“It’s an electric field. Set ‘em up in a perimeter ‘round the walls and on the walls themselves. Once I turn ‘em on, anythin’ approachin’ ‘em will be fried with several thousand watts of pure ol’ electricity. Human or Rabid.” He shrugged. “Kinda like a giant bug zapper, I reckon.”
“So…they can’t get in then?”
“Hasn’t happened yet. But that don’t stop ‘em from tryin’,” Tandy replied quietly. She noticed he gave her no guarantees. It should have frightened her more, yet she somehow found herself grateful for his honesty. She watched the continued flashes of purple, the screams coming over and over making her skin crawl with an itchy, restless sensation. Itchy
and restless were soon followed by anger. Not for the first time in the weeks since Jaron’s death, Amiel felt overwhelmed with this strange anger. Despite its common appearance as of late, it still surprised her. The old Amiel had always believed everyone around her to be in the right, and she in the wrong. Jaron had often tried to change her way of thinking, to see how self destructive it was. Deep down she knew he was right, but still she shied away from any aggression towards another. Since Jaron’s death…well, things were changing. She was changing.
The old Amiel would be huddled in the corner, terrified of what was outside of those walls, and their all too human screams. Heck, the old Amiel never would have left her mother’s home. And while she was definitely afraid now, the fear was quickly being overrun by the one emotion she had rarely allowed herself to feel growing up- anger. And that anger made her want to do something crazy and irrational. She began plucking at her shirt in an effort to cool her suddenly overheated body. Her efforts gave her little comfort, and she stalked back down the stairs in a desperate attempt to get away from the suffocating feelings evoked by the display outside.
Searching for distraction, Amiel wandered around the shop, looking over each metal work in progress and marveling at Tandy’s talents. She stopped as she came across a large old car. It was a dull black matte color, the outsides dented but solid. The windows were made of a very dark, solid material.
“My boy made that.” Amiel jumped, spinning and bumping into the car with her hip as Tandy appeared out of nowhere again. For such a big man, he sure was able to move quietly. Or maybe she just needed to pay more attention to her surroundings. His statement suddenly reached through her distracted thoughts.
“You have a son?”
“Two actually.” He smiled widely, obviously a proud father. She suddenly remembered him mentioning that he’d had teenagers. Amiel stared at him with new eyes, trying to imagine him as a father.
“Where are they?” she asked curiously, her hand smoothing across the car as she walked around to the back of it.
“Oh, they’ve moved on with their own lives now. Both of ‘em have their own important jobs. My oldest just got himself engaged, I hear.” She smiled up at him, noticing the deep pride that statement brought him, despite the flickering of sadness in his eyes. She imagined it to be the look most parents held, when they saw their children growing up and moving on, no longer needing them. It was a look that Amiel was sure would never cross her own mother’s face. She cleared her throat and turned back to the car.
“Which one of them made this?”
“Harley. He’s my youngest.” He patted the car fondly. “Never was much of a car man myself, and truth be told neither is he. I raised him up right to be a hog lover.” He winked and gave a chuckle. “But my boy is something of an inventor I guess ya could say, always loved tinkerin’ round with things. With the whole Rabes thing happenin’ in the world, it just gave him all the more purpose for tinkerin’ I reckon.” He nudged the tire with his boot. “This here heap was a work in progress for him. He was workin’ on makin’ an indestructible car for people to drive round in safely, outside the cities.” He shrugged. “He was a dreamer, but if anyone could make it happen, it was him. He had hoped to make a few for the government actually.”
“Had?”
“Turns out the uppity ups in his business don’t share well. He showed ‘em the plans and they snatched ‘em right up without so much as a thank you or a penny in his pocket.” He shrugged the growl from his voice, and shoved his big hands down in the pockets of his jeans “Turns out they don’t share well with the public neither. Few of the uppity ups in society get ‘em, though.” He glanced at her pointedly, and her mouth formed an O.
“My mother owns one, doesn’t she? The one she drives to the spas outside of the city?” His proud smile was brighter than ever as he turned back to the car.
“Even Malinda Hilden isn’t above using the inventions of a dirty old biker’s son, if it means saving her own hide.” His eyes betrayed just how much he enjoyed that fact. “Obviously this is the early edition, nothin’ as snazzy as your ma’s. But even still, the metal is solid, could take a real beatin’. He was workin’ on makin’ glass that could withstand the Rabids too, but didn’t get time to perfect that with this one. They’re dark on the outside, but lookin’ through from the inside’s a whole lot clearer. Engine don’t work seein’ as he never got a chance to work on that neither. Too bad really, it woulda been a real beaut when he was done with it. But it was a fun tinker toy while it lasted.”
“What happened? You keep saying he didn’t have enough time to finish it.” She was almost afraid to ask, praying he hadn’t become a victim of the Rabids war.
“Oh that. Well.” He rubbed one giant hand across the back of his neck and looked off into the distance. “My oldest boy, Cajun. He got sick, real sick. Cancer.” Her heart went out to him, knowing the state of health care when it came to life threatening diseases such as cancer. Doctors basically gave them up for lost causes at the moment of diagnosis.
“The look in your eyes tells me ya know how these things work. Too much of the Rabid-born troubles to bother with a few people dyin’ of cancer,” he growled out in anger. “But we heard up north, almost to the border, they were still doin’ treatments. The Rabes don’t like it up that way much, too cold for their blood, I reckon.” He shrugged. “Cajun was determined to live, and Harley was determined to take care of him. I came as far as here, settled in and opened my shop so I could keep an income and send it to them here and there as I could.” He paused, eyes distant. “I shoulda been with ‘em, up there. I just couldn’t bring myself to watch…” He coughed, an effort to cover his obvious pain and guilt. “Knew I wouldn’t be much good to him anyways, ‘cept helpin’ out with money. These hands ain’t good for nothin’ but workin’, seems like. Still, I wanted to be close enough, just in case…”
Amiel hesitated, emotions warring within her. Hadn’t her mother done the same thing, when Jaron lay dying? Leaving them to face it alone? Looking closer at Tandy she could see the barely restrained tears and pain in his eyes, the guilt for not being there when his sons needed him. Slowly the anger seeped away from Amiel’s heart. They weren’t false tears, or guilt played up in an effort to remove the image of wrongdoing from himself. These were the reflections of a father who held a heavy burden of true regret and self-recrimination. He’d been raking himself over the coals with a sense of worthlessness that he fought to abate through his efforts to provide in the only way he knew how, while his sons faced death together in a way they clearly understood how. This man was in no way similar to her mother. Hesitantly her hand rose, gently landing on his arm to give comfort. He cleared his throat and nodded vaguely toward her in appreciation.
“Anyways, so there it is. I settled in and they went on. With them two stubborn mules together I knew they’d get him well again, and they did. Took every penny of their mother’s trust fund that she left to him, and what little I could scrounge up, but they did it.”
“I’m so glad that he got better.” She smiled gently. “Did they work at the shop with you? I saw you working there over the years when I would drive by, but I don’t think I recall ever seeing anyone else,” she asked, trying to make conversation.
“Well, there comes a time when a man’s gotta let his kids become men. When they came back from getting’ Cajun into remission, well…” He shrugged, picking at the paint on the car. “It was obvious they’d both become men up there on their own. Stopped by the shop on their way through town and told me Cajun got a job offer he couldn’t refuse. Harley had taken it on himself to be his brother’s personal guard through the years of lookin’ out for him, so he was goin’, too. That one’s even more stubborn than his mama, though you’d never get him to admit it.” He laughed fondly.
“So you’re married?” She quickly regretted the question, when the sadness returned to his eyes, and she thought back to his wording. Obviously she wasn’t around anymor
e. She could have left them, but from his mentioning of the trust fund earlier, she was sure it meant his wife was dead. She was probably the reason Tandy understood her pain of losing someone. Which meant Amiel had put her foot in her mouth, again. She mentally slapped herself and began to apologize. “Sorry, that’s none of my business. I spoke before thinking.” He shook his head and patted her hand that still rested on his arm.
“Don’t go workin’ yourself up, honey, no harm done. I was married. But it was a long time ago she passed on. Still miss her, but this old hearts still a beatin’.” He cleared his throat and turned away. “How ‘bout some chow?” They settled down on the couches, eating some microwave dinners Tandy had pulled from his freezer. The entire freezer was packed with them, making Amiel smile at his bachelor style of living. It was also the first time Amiel had ever had a frozen dinner. Malinda’s eyes would have exploded from her head if she’d ever had to eat one of these. Amiel rather enjoyed them, and the step toward freedom that they represented for her.
“So your oldest boy who had cancer, he is the one getting married now? That’s so exciting for you all, I’m sure.”
“Very. Hard for this old bear to believe, but when they grow up they grow up fast. Not sure when the weddin’ is yet, but I’ll be there.”
“I’m sure you will be. You seem like a wonderful father, Tandy.” He cleared his throat and nodded, staring down at his food in silence for a time. Suddenly he set his food aside and stood up.
“Almost forgot.” He disappeared in a darkened corner of the shop for a moment before returning with something in his hands. She hesitated when he held up a gun holster with a shiny black gun inside.
“Time for some Survival 101, honey. Ever use one of these?” he asked her seriously. She nodded slowly.
“My mother never approved of them, but my brother snuck me out to a shooting range once.”