A New Day in America

by Theo Black Gangi

  He’s been stabbed. He bleeds from his chest. He doesn’t have long. Leila kneels beside him as well and the five of them hover.

  The preacher’s bloody hand slides from his heart and smacks a bloody handprint on top of Nos’ hand with surprising strength.

  “You see the power and courage of the heavenly Lord our God. He led me to this moment, and now I go without fear or regret. Let me save you, my son,” he says. “Let that be my last deed on this earth. Accept the Lord Jesus Christ as your savior.”

  To the last, thinks Nos. To the very last. He holds the preacher’s bleeding hands. The best he can do is smile.

  “It is my purpose to save souls. I am meant to save yours before I pass. I am sure of this.”

  The preacher’s flickering consciousness verges the abyss.

  Leila lays her hand on top of the preacher’s, making layers of hands and blood.

  “You saved me,” she says. “Bless you, you have saved my very soul.”

  ***

  It’s barely daybreak. The violence was so quick and now it’s over. Naomi could only watch so much from the window. Snatches of craziness. When Pa comes upstairs he’s breathing hard, and there’s blood on him. She looks at the blood, and he follows where she looks and sees the blood like he hadn’t noticed until then.

  “It’s OK,” he says. “It’s not my blood.”

  He packs up everything and picks her up and carries her downstairs.

  The man at the garage is red and flustered.

  “You know what you did?” he asks Pa. “They’ll come back. They’ll take everything.”

  “You knew,” says Pa. “You knew they’d come. You offered your room and took our money, and you knew.”

  Pa stares. The red-faced man is quiet.

  “You’re lucky I’m leaving you here alive,” he says and walks out.

  The sun is high and bright like a normal afternoon, and the lady is outside with her dogs putting herself back together. Her shirt is torn. She cusses and says her stuff is gone. Her food, her clothes, her dog food.

  The men in white with the candle flag are walking away, carrying someone covered in a sheet. There are two men on the ground, and they aren’t breathing. One is the boy from before with the foul mouth. She wonders if her father killed him.

  The lady is still upset. She paces, angry. Pa puts Nay down.

  “We could follow them,” says Pa. “Get your truck back.”

  “I never want to lay eyes on them again,” says the lady. “Animals. No, not animals,” she says and looks at her dogs. “Animals have their nature intact. Those are a virus.”

  Pa has trouble looking at her. Leila is stripped down and trembling to her core. Naomi knows that face: Pa is thinking. Deciding.

  “That caravan offer still stands?” Pa asks.

  Leila smiles. “You got room for a few beasts?”

  “We’ll make room.”

  “Look, I don’t know how to thank you, how I can ever repay.”

  “No payments. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling about you, that you would do the same for us.”

  She smiles. Her smirk is back. Nay already recognizes the smirk and feels like she’ll remember it as Leila’s forever. She looks deeply at Pa, even as he looks away. “You don’t know how right you are.”

  Chapter 5

  Nosotros

  Leila chuckles when she sees the NYPD van.

  “You a cop?”

  Nos shrugs. “Nope. Just robbed one.”

  The dogs ride in the back with Leila. Naomi rides in the front and seems uncomfortable. She looks back to Leila like she belongs in the front. Nos just drives.

  They ride the familiar rumble of the road. The woods fly by the windows like the trees don’t know it’s the end of the world. Nos digs in on the gas pedal and pushes the van up around a hundred miles per hour and Leila laughs when he takes his crazy turns. They drive as the sun sets and night falls. Leila offers to drive, and Nos says he’s fine. They stop when the girls have to go to the bathroom. Nos isn’t tired. Must be that morning’s action running through him. He drives on through the night.

  When the sun rises, Nos has to leave the highway to scavenge for gas. The company would rather not leave the safety of the road. Nos finds some cars up abandoned driveways. He sucks the fuel from their tanks with a tube, and Leila says yuck. Naomi giggles. Yuck, she repeats.

  They get back in the van, and Nay quickly hops in the back with the dogs.

  “I can’t take your seat, princess,” says Leila.

  “I want to play with the doggies,” says Naomi.

  It’s strange to have a woman in the passenger seat. As Leila shuffles in his periphery, Nos, at times, forgets that she’s not Yvette. Where their banter was easy and natural before, they are quiet now. Nos feels like he’s been set up on a blind date by Naomi.

  “Why you heading West?” Leila breaks the ice.

  “Beats the shit outta East,” says Nos.

  “Hmm.”

  “You?”

  “Same,” she says.

  “Really?”

  “Sure. I can play that cagey game, too,” she says.

  Nos isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t want to tell Leila about how sick Naomi is. There’s no good reason he can think of. But, practically speaking, it’s always best to reveal as little as necessary.

  “I’m going to try and find my brother,” says Nos.

  “Oh right. Indiana.”

  “He’s on a military base out there.”

  “Were you two close?”

  “Not especially.”

  “So why go find him?” she asks.

  “Nothing’s more important than family,” says Nos, thinking of his father’s corpse back in Brooklyn. How his father’s best friend didn’t even know who Nos was. But he knew Tommy.

  “If you say so. In my experience, family is just the people you happen to be stuck with due to which womb you happened to come out of.”

  Nos wonders if she’s trying to get under his skin.

  “Family is who we support and who supports us, when no one will. When the world ends.”

  “And yet every shady cutthroat and scumbag is in somebody’s family.”

  Naomi pushes her head between them and listens.

  “Hi, princess,” says Leila. “You want to come up with the grown-ups?”

  Leila lifts the girl and sets her on her lap. She wraps her arms around Naomi’s waist, and they watch the monotonous road ahead like a movie they’ve seen way too many times.

  “What’s this?” says Leila. She pulls down the back of Naomi’s shirt. “Oh my.”

  The ride grows quiet. The truck tumbles along the road, but the bumps feel painful now, as Nos thinks of Naomi’s bumps.

  “How long?” asks Leila.

  “Don’t know.”

  Leila looks at Nay as though truly horrified. “How is she…”

  “I have treatment. Some. But not enough.”

  “I didn’t know there was such a thing as treatment,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Could be worse. Was worse for my boys, my wife.”

  “And my mother. My aunt. My grandma,” Leila says.

  “So why are you heading West?” asks Nos, meaning it this time.

  Leila takes in a deep, reluctant breath. “Just a boy,” she says.

  “Your man?”

  “Just a boy.”

  Chapter 6

  Snakes

  Nos takes a few wrong turns before he finds his way to the Fort Dan signs off the highway. Along the way, he drives into a makeshift market of sorts. Impromptu stands sell dried goods. Seems like there are more beggars than customers filling the streets. An odd place for a market. Nos wonders if the proximity to the base has something to do with it.

  Beggars crowd his progress, all but mobbing the van. Women hold up children and babies. Men in rags hold their hands out. Naomi watches as though she’s recording it all. America the Third World.

 
Fort Dan is a restored base from the times of civil war. High walls surround the fort and seem to have been recently reinforced. They are half a mile out and Nos can feel the suspicious eyes of the sentries. Nos gets within half a football field and they show themselves.

  The soldiers come on strong, M4 rifles at the ready. Leila flashes him a look.

  “Doing their due diligence,” he says, hoping he’s right. As Nos learned in New York, wearing a uniform does not make one an officer. He’s got plenty worth taking. Not just Naomi’s medicine either. Leila could be another sort of plunder.

  A soldier stands in front of the van. One to the left, one to the right, and one circles to the rear.

  “Get out of the van!” barks the solder dead ahead.

  Nos raises his hands and opens the door. He closes it behind him before the dogs can rush out. They make a violent ruckus, claws pressed against the windows.

  “Petty Officer First Class Nos Greene,” he says in a calm, even voice. Leila also gingerly gets out of the passenger side and closes the door, pushing the dogs inside and releasing a riot of barking.

  “Weapons! On the ground!”

  Nos slowly takes out his Sig, his pigsticker, the Beretta he’d snatched from the skinheads, and lays each on the road.

  “Got dogs in here,” says the soldier from behind the van.

  “And a girl.”

  “The dogs are tame,” says Leila.

  “The girl’s my daughter,” says Nos.

  “Faces in the dirt, both of you.”

  Nos and Leila oblige. Nos feels a gun barrel press into his skull while hands pat him down.

  “I got a rifle in the back,” says Nos.

  “I see it,” says a soldier.

  “Grab it,” says the man in charge.

  “I aint opening those doors, Sarge. Not unless you want me to kill those dogs.”

  “No!” says Leila.

  “Please,” Nos says. “My daughter is in that van. We come in peace. I’m here to see Sergeant Tommy Greene. He’s my brother.”

  Nos strains to see the man over him, but all he can make out is a pair of boots.

  The soldier lets out a sigh.

  “That shitbag?”

  They tell Nos and Leila to wait there and drive the van inside, loaded with Nos’ guns and the Suzuki bike that Nos is growing ever more fond of. They leave them alone and unarmed, with Naomi and the three pit bulls.

  “Thought you military boys had each other’s backs,” says Leila.

  “Just due diligence,” says Nos, again hoping he’s right.

  Nos is more worried that they’ll go through his rucksack and find Naomi’s medication. Might be that they know what it is and help themselves.

  “Suspicious, if you ask me.”

  “Suspicion is just good practicality. Anyone who isn’t suspicious these days is either a liar or a moron.”

  They wait maybe an hour under the Midwestern sun. While the village market isn’t too far from the base, he doesn’t see a single beggar or merchant. Could be the base has sent a message, and the downtrodden folks know better.

  Naomi is swinging a stick at some wavy blades of grass when the gates open. Nos sees a familiar face walk out in standard greens, flanked by the four armed guards from earlier.

  “Lieutenant Sorkin, is it?” says Nos, stepping forward to shake the man’s hand.

  “Nostradamus.” They embrace and then pull back, clutching each other’s forearms. Nos knows Sorkin from Rangers school. Always a real oo-rah type, with his head shaved all the way up and his spit shine boots. Not looking bad, considering. Just some gray up top and a receding hairline. “Shoulda known the end of the world couldn’t kill a snake-eater like you.”

  “I don’t eat snakes,” says Nos. Some guys call Special Forces boys like Nos ‘snake-eaters’. Not Nos’ favorite tag, to be honest. “Meat’s too tough.”

  “Leila, this is Lieutenant Sorkin, we went to school together.”

  Sorkin takes her hand and takes in a good long look at her eyes.

  “Some guys find luck even when there’s little to be had.”

  If only. “You’ve cleaned up pretty nice yourself,” says Nos, thinking of the unwashed masses just a mile down the road.

  “Routine,” Sorkin shrugs. “Keeps me sane. And who’s the little one?”

  “Naomi. My daughter.”

  Naomi steps beside Nos, her head tilted down toward the stick in her hands. Sorkin touches her shoulder.

  “Come on inside,” says Sorkin, leading the way.

  “He doesn’t seem too suspicious,” mutters Leila as they follow.

  “Nope.”

  “So which is he? A liar or a moron?”

  “Never said those two were exclusive.”

  Chapter 7

  Fort Dan

  The base is the closest approximation to civilization Nos has seen since Black Sun. While outside Dan’s fences, the air stinks of fear and feces, within there is a whiff of boredom. Aside from Sorkin, discipline has gone to shit. Long hair and beards are commonplace. Boys sit out in jackets, playing cards.

  When Nos had asked Sorkin about Tommy, he got cagey. Sorkin told him to wait for the general, leaving Nos to wander the base and wonder about his brother. If he had died, wouldn’t they just say so? Likely he pissed somebody off and got himself locked up. Tommy had a talent for starting trouble. Nos couldn’t count the number of times he had to scrap on account of his brother’s mouth.

  Leila and the dogs draw hollers from the men, and Naomi draws smiles from the women. The church is the most popular spot on base, not counting the port-o-potties. They amble toward a big crowd spilling out from the chapel doors. A tremor of excitement seems to run through the line of people.

  “What do you suppose is going on?” Leila asks.

  “Seems in trying times, folks turn to faith.”

  A woman in front overhears. “There’s been another disappearance from the chapel.”

  “Everyone’s lined up here like there’s a show inside,” says Leila.

  “This is God’s work,” the woman whispers, as though telling a secret. “You must be new here.”

  “We are,” says Nos.

  “Officer Brock vanished last night. Just like the other two earlier this week. Good Christian men, all three of them. Spent their days and nights praying. Praying about what’s happened to the world and for God to show His Mercy. And now he has,” she utters, biting her lip.

  “He disappeared?” repeats Nos, wondering if he hears her right. If there is a God, it’d be stretch to call him merciful.

  The woman goes inside.

  “She said two other disappeared,” says Nos. “Do you think—Tommy?”

  “I don’t know what to think. Strange business. She said they were all good religious types—that sound like your brother?”

  “Not in the least. Tommy’s a simple man. Likes to talk. Hates work. Likes cards, girls, and booze. He goes near a church, you smell the sulfur.”

  “Still. The least likely sometimes catch Christianity,” she says like it’s the flu.

  “Well, it wouldn’t surprise me if Tommy could turn water to wine.”

  They step inside and there are three piles of clothes sitting on different pews, each pile roped off like museum pieces. Naomi pulls ahead to look. Folks kneel and kiss their fingertips and touch the piles of clothes, underwear and all. Nos and Leila back away and watch, not sure how to react. The worshipers hum with a look of purpose in their eyes. They believe, thinks Nos. The last flock he’d seen with such purpose had saved Leila’s life.

  “Have you ever seen a miracle before?” says a voice from behind.

  Nos turns and sees the Chaplin smiling.

  “To be honest, I only see three piles of clothes,” says Nos.

  “You see the epilogue, but not the story. The evidence, but not the crime.”

  “What do you see that I don’t?” asks Nos.

  “The Carrying Off. ‘We who are alive and remain will
be caught up in the clouds to meet The Lord,’” beams the Chaplin. “Scripture does not say what would happen to the clothes of such an individual. But what use will they have of clothes where they are going?”

  “Chaplin, I’m here looking for my brother,” says Nos. “Was Tommy Greene one of the men who disappeared?”

  “Huh,” chuckles the Chaplin. “That would be a miracle.”

  ***

  “Sergeant Greene,” says General Westbrook, stepping from behind his desk. Clean, purposeful, with a hint of I-don’t-have-time-for-this-shit. “It’s good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Has Tommy been talking?”

  Westbrook turns back behind his desk. “Heard about Afghanistan. Your purple heart and all that chest candy they gave you.”

  “Wish it was candy. Maybe my daughter’d have more to eat.” Nos had left Naomi outside with Leila, and he already feels naked without her. It’s been over a year since she hasn’t been right at his side.

  “I can offer you food and a place to lay up,” says Westbrook. “What I don’t have is your brother.”

  “Is he alive?”

  “Can’t say for sure. He went missing three days ago. Commandeered a base vehicle with a buddy of his and hasn’t been seen or heard from since.”

  Nos nods. At least he’s not dead for sure.

  “Where did he go?”

  “Even those circumstances are in question. The pretense of Tommy’s trip off base was to check radiation levels in Decatur County. And go deer hunting.”

  Nos can’t help but grin. “I hope whoever believed that story has been adequately disciplined.”

  Westbrook gives a slight nod. “It turns out he was likely visiting a favorite illicit establishment when he went missing.”

  Trust Tommy Greene to find a whorehouse at the End of the World.

  “This doesn’t seem to come as a surprise,” suggests Westbrook.

  “I don’t surprise easily these days, General. I lost my wife and two boys. Found my father dangling from his own rafters by a piano chord. I can only hope that Tommy met his end doing what he loves.”

  He didn’t realize until just then how much he was looking forward to seeing his brother again. One last lurch toward normalcy. You can’t ever be too ambitious.