Overshadowed (Free Short Story) (The Remnant)

by Vannetta Chapman

Lenora hurried upstairs for a second load and took the peanut butter, the powdered milk, and the salt. The backseat was filled to the roof of the car, as was the floorboard area. She’d planned to leave the passenger seat for Oliver but realized she’d need to put him on top of a stack of supplies instead. And she still hadn’t packed any clothes.

  Starting over, she pulled out the MREs, transferred some of what was in the backseat, and added cat food to the floorboard.

  Raymond walked up while she was trying to cram her suitcase into the area behind the driver’s seat.

  “Problem?”

  She stopped what she was doing, swiped at the sweat running down her face, and glanced at her watch. She’d hoped to be gone by now. How long did they have?

  “Lenora, are you okay?”

  Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away. “Yes. No. I’m not sure. I just need to get this suitcase into this car.”

  “Let me help.” Raymond was what Lenora thought of as a geek. That might be an uncharitable thought, but his hair hung over into his eyes, and she’d only seen him wear blue jeans and T-shirts with slogans. Today’s said The Internet was down so I thought I’d come outside.

  “Is it?” She nodded at the T-shirt.

  “Is the Internet down?” He moved her seat forward one notch and slipped the suitcase into the space. “Not down exactly, but the power has been in and out. They must be working on the lines.”

  What was she forgetting? She needed to calm down and think logically.

  “Hey. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Gabe had not told her. He’d left her a clue, but he hadn’t told her. Because he wasn’t allowed to? That would be the only reason, and if he wasn’t allowed to, then should she? But how could she not?

  “You want these MREs? I can’t fit them in my car, and I have to go.”

  “Why would I want…eleven boxes of MREs?”

  “There are more in Gabe’s apartment.” Maybe when Raymond saw what was there, he’d understand.

  “You’re spooking me. If this is about those rumors on social media—”

  “What rumors? What are they saying?”

  “You know how those sites are. A few power outages and everyone goes all end of the world.” Raymond shrugged. He smiled for the first time since he’d walked up. “It’s summertime. Everyone has their A/C cranked up. The power outages are nothing to freak out over.”

  “What are they saying, specifically?”

  Now he looked a little more uncomfortable. “You name it, and someone is claiming it. Zombie apocalypse. Solar flares. Electron-eating bacteria.”

  “That’s it.”

  “Electron-eating bacteria? I assure you, that’s not even remotely possible.”

  But Lenora wasn’t listening. She was staring up at the sky. When she turned to look at Raymond, he was watching her, waiting, one hand on the stack of MREs and the other fiddling with his glasses.

  She slammed her door shut, made sure it was locked, and picked up two boxes of MREs. “Carry what you can and follow me. There’s something you need to see.”

  SIX

  The surveillance Gabe had done in April paid off.

  He’d remembered a car dealership on the north end of the retail area.

  “We’re going to buy another car?” Suzanne asked.

  “No, we’re not.”

  “So we’re going to steal a car.”

  “We’re going to requisition one. Only I’d rather not announce that if we can help it.”

  They were crouched behind a trash dumpster. It was apparent that everyone was taking note of the interruptions in electricity as well as cell service. Three of the salespersons were standing in front of the showroom, staring down at their phones.

  A voice came over the car lot’s speakers. “All floor personnel please report to the manager’s office.”

  The sales people looked up in surprise, shrugged, and walked back into the building.

  Which left one guy, apparently cleaning a car for a customer who was expecting to pick it up. Gabe recognized the process from when he’d purchased a new truck a few years ago—removing the paper floor mats, vacuuming the floor and seats, and walking around the car to swipe at any smudges of dirt with the rag in his back pocket.

  Gabe had sold that truck and bought the Chevy. Now it was a tangled heap of metal. So much for proactive thinking.

  A young girl opened the door to the showroom. “Jimmy, you need to hear this.”

  “But I’m—”

  “Just get in here.”

  Jimmy moved toward the driver’s side door, no doubt to claim the keys.

  “Now!” The girl barked, and that was all it took. Jimmy followed her inside.

  “Stay here.” Gabe took off at a fast walk before Suzanne could argue with him.

  He climbed into the Ford Explorer—a new vehicle which unfortunately had all the customary bells and whistles. He used the power switch to scoot the seat back and eased the car toward Suzanne.

  No one stopped him.

  Apparently, the manager’s meeting had expanded to include everyone on the lot.

  Suzanne threw their bags in the backseat, climbed into the front, and buckled up. “I guess we can add theft to our list of illegal activities.”

  “We have a list?”

  “Fleeing the scene of an accident, possessing fake identification papers, and now stealing a car. Yeah, I’d say we have a list.”

  “We do what we have to—”

  “In order to complete the mission. Yeah, I’ve heard it before.”

  Gabe shrugged. “There’s a first aid kit in my bag. You’d better clean up those cuts before someone notices.”

  They made it through the communities of Bulverde and Spring Branch with no problem.

  In Blanco the road passed within a block of the courthouse.

  It seemed no busier than usual.

  In Johnson City the lights were out. Police officers stood in the middle of intersections, directing traffic. Gabe and Suzanne had to stop and wait for an officer to allow their lane to proceed. Gabe briefly wondered if Suzanne could be right. There might be an APB out on the stolen car by now.

  The officer never even looked at them. He blew his whistle, waved their line of vehicles forward, and kept his attention on the scene in general but no one person in particular.

  “This car is going to be a problem for you.”

  “In what way?”

  Suzanne waved at the onboard computer and keyless ignition. “It won’t work after the flare.”

  “In all likelihood my car wouldn’t have worked either.”

  “But you bought it without the gizmos.”

  “I did.” He hesitated and then added, “Actually, it might have worked. I bought it from a guy who refurbishes classic vehicles.”

  “That was a classic?”

  “He hadn’t quite finished with the upholstery or the paint, but the engine was sound.”

  “No computer chips.”

  “None.”

  “Now you’ll be stranded like the rest of us.”

  “Are you worried?”

  She offered the smile he’d grown accustomed to since they’d been teamed up. “Austin is fifty-five miles from my assignment. Am I worried about crossing fifty-five miles in central Texas on foot? After serving two stints in Iraq—no. I don’t think it will be a problem.”

  Which pretty much summed up her attitude—and his. They’d seen worse. Every scenario Gabe could come up with didn’t look as bad as being in a foreign country surrounded by insurgents with military-grade weapons—not for him personally. Not for anyone on the task force. For the general population? For them, what was approaching was the worst he could imagine.

  When they reached the next town, he stopped at a gas station across from a McDonald’s.

  Suzanne hustled across the street and returned with two bags. They sat in the front seat of the stolen vehicle and enjoyed the quarter-pound burgers, fries, and chocolate shakes. />
  “I don’t usually eat this junk,” Suzanne said.

  “And yet I imagine we both will be missing it in a few weeks.”

  “No doubt that this is happening?”

  “No. I suppose I’d be relieved if it didn’t, but from all the signs…” He pointed at the line of cars stretching out from the pharmacy and down the road. “It appears that folks think it will.”

  “How do they even know?”

  “They don’t.” While he’d filled up the car, he’d use the burner phone to check the news and several social media pages. “They only know that something is happening.”

  “Someone must have talked.”

  He thought of Lenora, of the store of supplies he hoped she’d found by now. “Not necessarily.”

  Suzanne shrugged, balled up her trash, and stuffed it all inside the paper bag.

  “Guess I should go find some lodging.”

  “Be careful.”

  She pulled her go bag from the backseat. “I’m always careful, Gabe. You watch your back.”

  He waited until she was out of sight. Then he pushed the button on the car and continued the last twenty miles to his destination.

  SEVEN

  Hondo, Texas, was forty-five miles from the center of San Antonio. Lenora had driven it many times but never with so much trepidation. She felt better once she was on the freeway, headed west, headed home.

  Oliver sat in his crate on top of a pile of twenty-pound bags of cat food, glowering down at her. Clearly he was not happy about her decision, but Lenora knew she’d done the right thing. The only question was whether she’d done enough. She’d called her boss and warned her neighbor, and now she was headed home. Once she drove through Castroville, she began to breathe more easily. Although the distance between her hometown and San Antonio was small, it seemed greater because there was nothing to mark the west Texas landscape—nothing remarkable anyway.

  Castroville was the only town between Hondo and San Antonio. With a population of less than three thousand, most people considered it a blip on the map. But it provided a buffer between home and the urban madness that Lenora was convinced was about to commence. Castroville enjoyed some tourism, but no one stopped in Hondo. The only reason people drove through was to head inland from Ciudad Acuña or to travel from a ranch in Uvalde.

  She pulled in front of her parents’ home, turned off the ignition, and sat there staring at the scene from her childhood. A simple, two-bedroom house. A front yard with a scraggly tree, her mother’s flower gardens, and grass that fought to survive the summer’s blistering heat.

  Oliver meowed, protesting his confinement, but Lenora needed a moment to calm her emotions before she faced her mother. She breathed deeply, rested her head against the steering wheel, and told herself she’d done all that she could. “Dios ayúdanos,” she whispered.

  Glancing up, she saw her mother standing behind the front storm door. Lenora waved feebly before exiting her car and lugging Oliver’s crate to the house.

  “You have a cat.”

  “He belongs to my neighbor.”

  “The one who had all the…all the stuff.”

  Lenora nodded and walked into her parents’ home, the same home that she’d been raised in. The one she couldn’t wait to leave, and now it might just be her salvation.

  “We’ve never had a cat before.”

  “I know, Mamá.”

  “But if this man did what you think he did, if he bought all that stuff for you? Then I suppose we should look after his cat. Come into the kitchen. You look exhausted, hija. Did you even stop for lunch? Let me fix you something.”

  “I need to start unloading.”

  “Now? You have to do it now?”

  “Si. I should.” She detoured to use the bathroom first and noted that her mother had filled the tub with water. Additional buckets sat around the bathroom, all filled to the brim.

  When she stepped back into the main room, her mother said, “Papá will wonder about the water bill.”

  “I’m pretty sure you don’t need to worry about that.”

  “Because of this thing? This thing you think will happen?”

  Lenora nodded, not knowing how to explain something she didn’t understand herself. Her mother reached out and touched her face. “Start unloading. I’ll let Oliver loose in your bedroom. He sounds unhappy in that crate.”

  Lenora had thought her mother had understood, but the alarm in her eyes as she brought in case after case told her she hadn’t. Who really could conceive of such a thing on the first try? She hadn’t wanted to believe it either.

  They didn’t speak of what was about to happen, of her theories or fears.

  Instead, they stacked the cases of food on the back porch, which was at least screened. After that she drove her mother to the pharmacy to pick up prescriptions.

  “You ordered an extra ninety-day supply?”

  “Si. They asked if I’d lost my last prescription because I filled it only a couple of weeks ago.”

  “I hope you told them—”

  “I know what you said. I won’t lie, though. Even with this… whatever it is. I won’t lie, Lenora. If the world is about to go hooey, we need to hold on to our integrity.”

  She didn’t want to argue morality with her mother during the apocalypse. So instead she asked, “But they filled it?”

  “They did, though they said the insurance wouldn’t pay. Said I’d have to pay cash. I don’t see why I needed to order so much. Seems a waste of money.”

  “Mamá, I brought enough cash.”

  They picked up the prescriptions and then drove to the bank and withdrew all of her parents’ money.

  “You haven’t talked to Papá?”

  “He’s working. I didn’t want to bother him.”

  “But he’ll be home soon?”

  “Your father is always home for dinner. Speaking of which, you should take me back to the house. I need to start cooking.” When Lenora started to protest, she said, “We have to eat, dear. Regardless what comes.”

  So Lenora took her home, and then she went to the local hardware store to wander up and down the aisles and purchase anything else they might need. Feed for her mamá’s chickens, seed packets for every type of vegetable available, and a giant rain barrel that had apparently been sitting there for some time.

  “Not expecting rain that I know of,” the clerk pointed out.

  She’d nodded and asked him to put it all on her credit card.

  When the sale went through, he said, “You’re lucky it’s working. Earlier the land lines and cell phones blinked out for a few minutes. Strangest thing.”

  He was a young man, and Lenora didn’t remember seeing him before.

  “What happened to Mr. Rodriguez?” she asked.

  “That would be my pop. He retired.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m Anthony.” He’d walked around the counter to carry the rain barrel out to her car. Stopping in front of her, he offered his hand.

  For the first time that day, Lenora smiled. “Nice to meet you, Anthony.”

  The barrel didn’t fit in her car, but Anthony retrieved a piece of rope and tied the hatch down.

  “You have a nice day,” he said.

  Lenora hesitated, but not for long. “Close the store.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Close the store. Lock it up good. Go to the grocery store and buy all the dry goods you can.”

  He’d nearly reached the door, but now he turned and walked back to her. Instead of incredulity, his eyes were filled with concern. “What’s this about?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. I just drove in from San Antonio.”

  “Because of…”

  “Something that’s about to happen.”

  Anthony’s smile was wide and genuine. “Never been much of a conspiracy person myself. Didn’t even worry about Y2K, though I was in college at the time and certainly needed my computer and my debit card.”

  “This is
n’t like Y2K, Anthony. It’s much…It’s much worse.”

  “Hey. You’re serious about this.”

  “I am. You need dry goods, money, and prescriptions. And I don’t know…the thing is, I don’t know how much time you have left.”

  He considered what she was saying, glanced back at his store, and then stepped closer. “If what you’re saying is true—and I’m not saying I believe you because it sounds crazy and I think you know that…”

  She nodded.

  “But if it’s true, shouldn’t I stay here? Won’t people be needing…” He glanced into her backseat. “Chicken feed and vegetable seeds?”

  “They’ll still need it tomorrow. Right now? You need to take care of your family.”

  “La familia es primero?”

  “Yes. Something like that.” And then she got in her car and drove back home.

  EIGHT

  It was probably unusual for two county seats to be situated so close together, but then Texas was a unique area. Miles and miles of uninterrupted land to the west, massive growth down the I-35 corridor to the east, and countless counties filled with small towns in between.

  Gabe passed the high school and noted that the parking lot held a good number of cars. Summer training for teachers, no doubt. He continued north, passed a Mexican food place that promised better fare than the burger he’d just consumed, and reached the center of town. He turned east, circled the town square, and thought about stopping but ultimately moved on.

  He drove out of town in all four directions, returning each time and expecting to see lines at the grocery store, the bank, the pharmacy. But this town had not caught wind of the rumors, or perhaps they were more levelheaded than most. He passed a farmer with a flatbed full of hay, a cowboy pulling a trailer with goats, and a young man in a pickup truck with a dog seated beside him. The dog’s head was stuck out the window, ears flapping back, with a look of complete contentment on its face.

  Gabe refreshed the area in his mind, mentally cataloging places he might need to go and resources he might need to find. As he drove, his mind compared what he was seeing to that other fateful day, the only other thing he could compare this to. The only other thing that came close to the kind of damage they were about to experience—both physically and emotionally as a nation. That other fateful day had been burned on his heart. Both of his parents had died in the attack on the World Trade Center. He’d been in college at the time. He’d been in class when he heard about the attack.