“I’m sorry,” Carl said. “I wish I could give you better news, but as of this moment, I can’t say things are going to get any better. I haven’t seen any sign that any authority is picking up the pieces. But we still have a chance to make it through this, even if our new lives aren’t going to be anything like what they were.”
Alicia pointed to the camping gear. “Basically, life’s gonna be roughing it twenty-four hours a day.”
“This store’s not a bad shelter but it’s still vulnerable to looters and anarchists if they pass through this area.” Carl turned from the doors back to Tyler. “But you don’t have to worry. You can come with us. All of us are getting ready to march out toward into countryside. We might be able to find food and shelter at Camp Jefferson.”
Tyler waved him off. “No. No, I’m staying here.”
“Why?” Preston asked, “You can find help out there with us.”
“I don’t have anything to live for except these four walls.” Tyler pointed to the walls around them. “This is my baby. I’ll live here and I’ll die here. Simple as that.”
“But you could have a new life somewhere, anywhere!” Tara spread her arms out. “Why stay here and wait to die?”
Tyler frowned. “My business is all I knew for years and I can’t picture myself doing anything else. Look, nothing’s left for me out there. The world has taken everything I love. You think you can find some happiness out there, knock yourselves out. But this is the end of the road for me.” He sighed. “It’s better to die here in a place that feels like home rather than out there fighting for my life against who knows what.”
Carl wanted to keep contesting the matter, but he quickly realized it would be futile. He could not drag along somebody who was unwilling to go with them. “Your goods,” he said, “we’re still willing to give them up, to let you keep them.”
“Keep them,” Tyler said. “If they’re keeping somebody alive, well, it’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to customers who can use my goods. Take as much as you want.”
Carl walked a little closer to Tyler. “I’ll make sure Chad and the other leaders in the mall know you’re here. They can come by, give you food, and let you know what they’re up to.”
Tyler glanced at the floor. “You’re too kind, Carl. I wouldn’t waste it on me.” His eyes started to water. “But thank you.”
Alicia hiked the pack higher on her back. “I don’t believe this. Why stay here? I’d go crazy if I had to stay inside a department store for the rest of my life.”
Lorenzo walked beside her. “Alicia, that’s a broken man there. He didn’t have anything in his life but these stores. Once society went to pot, it took away the only thing he valued. You think you’d be in better shape? Imagine if I lost you in a car accident. I don’t think I could ever get out of bed in the morning.”
Alicia opened her mouth to respond, but her thoughts quickly died before she could express them.
Tara passed close to them. Carl and Shyanne lagged behind while Preston hurried to catch up to the couple.
“I feel sad for him,” Shyanne said.
Carl reached around and hugged Shyanne by the shoulders. “Me too,” he said softly.
The sight of the man was crushing. Giving in to that much despair was alien to Carl, yet he never had suffered such loss in his life. Carl had to admit he had lived the life of the warrior for a long time, and this disaster actually had changed very little in that regard. Even in that brief in-between, after his service overseas and before the EMP hit, he had spent his time preparing for more chaos. He had never married, never had kids, and thus had no deep roots to plant anywhere.
And thus he had nothing much to lose when society was thrown into upheaval. No wonder, then, that Alicia and Lorenzo fascinated him. Theirs was a look into a life he never had, a life with a spouse to talk to, bicker with, and love each day. No wonder, then, that Tyler couldn’t imagine a life without his love or even his chain of businesses.
Suddenly, Tara raced to the doors. “Hey! Is that…?” She flung open the store’s main doors. “That’s Michael!”
Carl rushed to the front doors. Michael was outside the strip mall, shuffling across the street in their direction.
Chapter Eight
“Michael!” Tara broke into a run. “Michael, what the hell are you doing?” She hurdled over the sidewalk, then the swale, before reaching the open street. Michael was shuffling across the asphalt, only focusing on the store where Carl and the others just had left.
Tara caught up to Michael and grabbed him. “Michael, stop! Why are you out here all alone?” She turned left and right. “Good God, you’re in the middle of the street! A car could—” She then held her tongue. “Oh, that’s right. There are no running cars. I can’t believe I forgot.” She lightly slapped the side of her head. “Damn. I just saw you walking out into the street and I—” She sighed.
Carl, Preston and Shyanne joined up with them, drawing Michael’s attention. Carl leaned closer to Tara. “It’s alright,” Carl said, “we’ve got him now. Let’s just all walk back to the mall.”
Michael didn’t say anything, but he did turn and start trekking back to the mall, with Tara close beside him. Carl wondered what was going on inside that man’s head. Carl was no trauma expert, but his time in the military had taught him about how bad a blow to the head could mess up a person. Was Michael acting on a feeling, or was he fully cognitive but simply couldn’t express himself verbally?
In any case, he was glad they had run into Michael before he had walked too far. He might have joined them in Tyler’s store. Due to the EMP blast, he wasn’t at risk of being struck by a vehicle. However, other risks still lurked out here. He could trip and fall due to his condition, and without a working hospital, his injuries could be life-threatening. Carl also didn’t discount the possibility of marauders or other goons such as Jason showing up.
As they crossed over the side of the street and approached the mall’s parking lot, Carl wondered about Michael’s fate. He still planned to leave the mall. Michael, however, clearly could not fend for himself. He always would need someone with him until, if possible, he could recover from his injuries. It always had seemed a given that Michael would come along, but the man was in little shape to contribute to their survival.
Well, so what if he can’t, Carl thought. It’s your duty to help and care for those people who can’t fend for themselves. But now that would be much easier said than done. He had no working vehicle to drive Michael anywhere. Michael still would have to walk with them. And with the increased hostility of the surrounding world, Carl would have to protect Michael from dangers that did not exist before the EMP event.
To his shame, he wondered if he and the others would be better off without Michael traveling with them. He couldn’t dare voice that opinion around Tara. No, he would have to bring Michael.
Carl sensed Tara’s mood increasingly was souring as soon as they had reached the mall and filed through the entrance near Marianne’s. Her boots made loud stomps on the floor. She was making a beeline for the clothing store. She had kept her pace slow to lead Michael back here, but once she spotted the sign of Marianne’s, she suddenly jogged toward it. And when Tammy emerged from the store, Tara broke into a run.
Carl cringed. Tammy was one of the survivors who had helped with Michael’s care, lending a hand when Rupert needed a break. Tammy’s presence provided Tara with a target to vent at.
“Tara?” Tammy, swishing her long dark hair, looked past Tara to Michael behind her, with Carl and the rest of the party. “Oh, Michael! Some of us were wondering where you went.”
“Wondering?” Tara brought her boots down hard on the floor. “Why should anybody be wondering where Michael went? Who was watching him to begin with? You know, you’d think a human adult would be easy to keep an eye on! How’d you lose him? We just picked him up walking across the street.”
“The street?” Tammy’s eyes widened. “My God. I didn’t know he�
�d left the mall! I didn’t think he could!”
“Well Michael’s obviously got a few more functioning brain cells than you might think. So, maybe it’s a good idea not to let him wander around without somebody to look after him, don’t you think? We have places in here where you can fall down.” Tara pointed to the second floor balcony. “Remember when Cyrus fell from up there? Yeah, if some of those banisters are weak, Michael could fall through them too.”
“Tara…” Tammy began.
“I mean, what are you thinking?” Tara refused to stop.
“Tara, calm down,” Carl reached for her arm. “Nobody meant to—”
But it was Michael who responded the quickest. “Tara,” he said.
Tara quieted immediately. She turned to Michael, who was looking at her with a cocked eyebrow.
“You…” he said, in a nearly normal but still a bit haggard voice. “You need…to chill. You’ll…” Michael then smiled. “You’ll go nuts again.”
Tara shrank back. She couldn’t say anything for a moment, until she said, quietly, “Sure. Sure.” She then looked at Tammy. “Sorry.”
Michael’s features relaxed as he withdrew into the same hazy expression he had worn earlier. So, the man still was in there. He may have emerged only for a moment, but it was a start.
“Look, we can talk about this later,” Carl said. “Right now, we need to put down all this gear we got from Tyler’s.” He turned to Shyanne. “Then we can think about dinner.”
The little girl grinned. “Great!”
Carl raised his rifle. The modifications were perfect. This baby should serve them well on their journey. He was glad not to do this alone. The group had split off into other sections of the mall, likely to muse over meeting Tyler and sort out how they felt about it or, in Tara’s case, to cool off after finding Michael wandering around outside. Carl had figured he could sort out his own thoughts here inside the shoe store, but he soon discovered he had done much of his thinking already in Tyler’s store. He harbored little doubt about his next move. He just needed one more night’s sleep to get himself in the proper state for his trip.
As he looked up from his gun, he noticed Shyanne seated on a bench outside the doors. Her head was bowed to the ground and she looked sad. “Shyanne?” Carl jogged up to her. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Shyanne spun around on her foot. “Sarah’s not coming with us.”
“Sarah?” Carl asked.
“I play with her,” Shyanne said, “You saw her this morning.”
Carl remembered the kids who were playing tag with Shyanne. “Right. Yeah, I do. You talked to her after we came back?”
Shyanne nodded. “Her mommy wants to take her south to South Carolina. She says they’ll be safer there. I said you could keep us safe, but her mommy doesn’t want to go with you.”
“I see.” Carl sat on the bench next to her. “I’m sorry your friend can’t go with us. But every family’s must choose for themselves what’s best. Maybe they have family in South Carolina, or they know someone who can help them.”
“But I’ll never see her again. Our phones don’t work. I can’t text her, can’t call her, and I’ll never know where she is,” Shyanne said as she leaned into Carl.
“I know.” Carl hugged Shyanne. “I wish everyone could come with us. I’m afraid this world isn’t going to let us have everything we used to have, like easy communication, keeping track of everyone. We’re probably going to keep meeting people who have to leave someday and they may go very far.”
“Are you going to leave me someday?” Shyanne asked.
The question hit Carl like a punch in the gut. Why would he leave Shyanne? And yet, he remembered that he was thinking of allowing Shyanne to stay with someone here just this morning. A parting wasn’t out of the question. Perhaps it should be.
“If I have anything to say about it, you should stay with me,” he finally said. The world would not allow for an easy promise never to leave her, but she deserved reassurance that Carl never would push her away if he didn’t want to do so.
Shyanne pressed a little closer to him. “Thank you.”
Carl raised his head up a little. Perhaps he wasn’t as alone as he had thought. Perhaps he did have a family after all; maybe not in the conventional sense, but one nonetheless.
The sound of footsteps drew Carl out of his deep thoughts. A tall man with two boys beside him approached them. Carl recognized the boys as two of Shyanne’s playmates. The man -- with his tanned skin, salt and pepper hair, and bushy mustache -- seemed a little familiar, but Carl couldn’t think of his name.
“Hello,” the man said. “Carl, right? I’m Harold Bosworth. My boys and I would like to join you when you leave tomorrow.”
“Really?” Shyanne jumped off the bench. The two boys nodded. They didn’t smile big, but they appeared happy nonetheless.
“I’m happy to have you,” Carl said. “I think I remember you talking yesterday to some of the other survivors about outdoor survival, but I never got the chance to come over and ask you about it. You understand survival?”
“Absolutely. My boys and I live and breathe it, at least on Saturday and Sunday. I worked in the city until the disaster struck. We were stuck on the road and joined up with the caravan of people who made their way here.”
“Do you have guns?” Carl asked.
“A handgun. I carry it with me, but I’m out of bullets. I used them up fighting my way out of the city with my boys. I couldn’t do anything when those killers broke into the store and murdered that guard,” Harold replied with a sigh.
“Don’t worry. We’ve got more guns and ammunition, and I could use another hand for them,” Carl said.
“Sounds perfect. I trained my boys as well. If you need extra hands, they’ll be ready,” Harold said.
“Who are your sons?” Carl asked.
“Matt and Tom!” Shyanne said, pointing to the two boys. “They play with me too, but they don’t talk.”
Harold laughed. “Oh, they talk, little Miss, but they just don’t talk unless they have something to say.”
Carl looked down at Harold’s sons. They were almost identical in appearance, and if Carl hadn’t caught Shyanne’s quick pointing and identification, he wouldn’t have known the boy on the left was Tom and the boy on the right was Matt. Each of them had black hair and lightly tanned skin. They seemed to be of mixed heritage. Carl wondered if their mother was Asian, or perhaps Native American.
“Is this your entire company, sir?” Carl asked.
“That it is. Their mother passed when they were just babies. What you see is all there is of the Bosworth clan,” Harold replied.
Just then, Preston jogged over to them with Ricardo behind. He was jumping up and down. “Mister Carl!” The boy seemed more excited than usual, which was saying something for Ricardo. “You’ve got to come to the food court!”
Preston panted. “He came up to me and wanted me to get you,” he said. “He wants us to grab Tara, too. He says he has a big surprise for us.”
Ricardo ran faster as he approached the food court. “You are going to love this! Hurry! Hurry, so you can get some before it runs out!”
“What runs out?” Carl asked.
“Sorry! Not telling you!” Ricardo replied with a laugh. “It’s all going to be a surprise!”
Carl sniffed the air. “I smell smoke. Ricardo, do you have something burning in here?”
“It’s more like cooking,” Preston replied.
“But how can anything be cooking?” Tara asked, “The power is out.”
“I guess the gas lines wouldn’t work, would they?” Preston asked.
“No. The gas company would have lost power too. If the pumps aren’t working, then the gas won’t either,” Carl replied.
“But they can make a campfire!” Shyanne said while she skipped across the floor behind Ricardo.
Carl chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s not a good idea to do that inside. The smoke could gather and make u
s all choke. And if something catches fire, it can spread and maybe burn the mall down. We can’t call the fire department if a fire breaks out.”
Ricardo did a quick spin on the tips of his toes before continuing. “Yeah, we all become flambé! Nah, don’t worry. We’re good.” He now was approaching the edge of the food court. “We’re almost there!”
Tara inhaled deeply and then yelled, “I smell pizza!”
“Yeah, that is pizza!” Preston added as he inhaled.
“Pizza!” Even Carl was feeling excited. Pizza was one of many amenities he was certain he never would taste again. Yet somebody in this mall was cooking it, unless his senses were deceiving him.
Ricardo leaped up the short flight of steps that led up to the rows of tables and chairs. Many of the survivors were seated there, munching away at honest-to-God slices of pizza. Carl wondered if he was dreaming. It was like a slice of normalcy had been restored to the mall. No, to the world.
Ricardo walked past a taco stand and a Greek eatery to a small Italian restaurant. Soft wisps of smoke poured from the entrance. As the group rounded the corner into the restaurant the smell of garlic, tomatoes and fresh, melted mozzarella hit them. “See?” Ricardo rushed to the counter. “We got some wood, made the fire…” He waved his hand. “And here we go!”
Eric and Maria were working the ovens, which were fueled by flaming planks of wood. Eric just had finished pulling out a freshly cooked pizza on a wooden paddle. The aroma made Carl’s mouth water. As he looked to his friends, he saw he wasn’t the only one. Preston sheepishly wiped some drool from his lips.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Ricardo gestured to the pizza. “It’s yours!”
“It is?” Tara looked at Eric and Maria. “But how do we pay for this? I mean…”
“Pay for it?” Eric laughed, “Don’t worry. We’re making them for everyone. Money’s not an issue anymore. Besides, we owe you all our lives. You saved us from those vicious killers.”
Silent Interruption (Book 3): An Uncertain Passage Page 6