by Ponce, Jen
I should have known, should have kept watch instead.
That was the guilt I lived with long after those fifteen days. I had no idea how Dan felt. After the fifth day, he’d stopped talking at all.
I went out several times after the storm stopped, calling their names, looking for any sign they might be alive, might be holed up somewhere. It was as if they both vanished off the face of the earth.
When the roads finally cleared, I let Dan drive so I could look for them.
I looked for them, but they were gone. They were gone and we went on, because what else could we do?
42
Now
Alex doesn’t get the same good news. There’s a lot of blood on the sidewalk in front of her brother’s house and inside? Inside it’s bad. Alex hangs tight to Dee’s hand as they enter, and when they walk into the main bedroom, they see what happened. Her nieces have plastic bags over their heads. Her sister-in-law too. Her brother spent his last moments probably crying over his family, and then he put a gun under his chin and pulled the trigger. Dried blood is spattered on the wall in the shape of a fan.
Alex stares and stares, then turns from the doorway and stumbles back down the hall.
Dee studies them a moment longer, feeling guilty that she is glad she didn’t see her boys, her parents, this same way. When she follows Alex back down, she finds her bent over in the yard throwing up.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, wishing she were Lana, wishing she could offer something to make it better, but that was crazy, wasn’t it? Ridiculous. In this world of broken, dead things, there is no consolation. There is nothing but despair and death and darkness. Hope is mixed in there to keep them going but it’s all a big joke, isn’t it? A big, cosmic joke on the few remaining survivors in a land of the dead. “You can stay with me,” she says. “I will be your family.”
She doesn’t know where the words come from and she isn’t sure she means them, but she offers them anyway.
Alex doesn’t answer. Just nods. Her expression reminds Dee of Dan’s after Isaac and Paisley walked into the storm. It scares her.
They load themselves back into the SUV and get on the road. Smoke still billows into the sky from the explosions and it makes their drive easier. So easy, in fact, they are able to make their way into Kirkland, where Peter and Gloria live.
Where Will once lived. Before.
Peter hands Dee Will’s wallet and she directs them to his family’s home. There’s nothing left. The buildings on that block are burnt to a crisp, half of them collapsed in on themselves. They get themselves as close to the address as they can, and Dee exits the SUV after a long moment of watching.
She has Will’s wallet and she walks up the sidewalk, trying to think of what she can say. There is nothing she can say, nothing that will ever ease this endless sadness that seems to have fallen on the world.
When she gets to the front stoop, the only thing not burnt in whatever terrible conflagration swept through Will’s neighborhood, she stops and stares down at the wallet. “I’m sorry, Will, that I didn’t save you. I’m sorry you got hurt, that you struggled so hard and it still didn’t make a damn bit of difference.” She licks her lips. “I’m sorry that there’s no one here to get your wallet. I wish …” She doesn’t know what she wishes. Wishes have a way of backfiring anyway, don’t they? “I hope that you’ve found peace. I hope you’re with your family if they’re …” She trails off again. The wind sighs softly. Bird song fills the silence, the tick of the SUV’s motor, her breathing. She thinks of Will, of his body still in that motel on the side of the road. Then she bends down and lays the wallet on the step. “Goodbye, Will.” She presses her fingers to her lips and then to the wallet.
When she gets back into the truck, Alex curls up against her and Dee strokes her hair as they continue on to Peter and Gloria’s home. The couple has decided they don’t want to stay. They’ll go home, grab a few things, and then they will go to Eatonville too. “I want out of the city,” Peter says. Gloria nods along.
Dee knows how this goes. People get together to survive and then the world, this apocalypse, picks them off one by one.
She hopes it doesn’t happen again. She hopes they survive, that she survives.
She knows it’s stupid to hope but she does anyway.
When they get to their next destination, there are more of them. They are too far away to hear the explosion, and they don’t seem interested in the black smoke to the south.
“More car alarms?” Peter asks, and when they agree, he drives a few blocks and starts setting off alarms. When they get back, there are only a few of them left. Dee uses her gun to take out two and Peter takes out the other three.
“You ready honey?”
Gloria nods. “As I’ll ever be.”
“Dee? Take the wheel. Drive around if you have to. Give us thirty minutes. We’ll watch for you on the balcony.”
Dee nods and slides behind the wheel. Alex gets onto the passenger seat and they wait until the couple gets inside before they drive off. Dee wonders if it will be the last time she ever sees them. She hopes not, but she prepares herself for that eventuality. She considers telling Alex to expect it, then says nothing. The poor woman is still crying. She doesn’t want to add to her misery.
They drive around for the prescribed thirty minutes, then Dee circles back. It’s almost surreal to see Gloria wave from the balcony, and it’s even more surreal when they get in, arms full of things they’d collected from their home, including a cast iron skillet that Gloria wields like a baseball bat.
“It makes great meat and it splits skulls. How could I resist?” Her eyes are almost too manic, and Dee realizes they must have found their dogs. Dee reaches back and squeezes Gloria’s hand, and then she pulls away from the curb. Gloria and Peter both look back, long after their home is no longer in sight. When they turn to look ahead once again, both of them have eyes that are wet with unshed tears.
43
Now
It takes them two weeks to get out of the city. The dead are everywhere. No matter where they turn, no matter what they do, they can’t seem to shake them. The hope Dee felt when she saw Tucker’s note slowly fades the longer it takes them to escape. Under normal circumstances, it would take an hour and a half on a good traffic day to get to Eatonville. The fact that it’s taken two weeks to go ten miles makes Dee want to scream.
She knows, though, if she starts screaming she won’t stop, so she pushes all thoughts of her kids away. They’re safe, she tells herself. They’re safe and there’s nothing else she can do for them right now but survive.
Alex is a mess, but she helps them anyway, shooting them when she needs to, running when she needs to, being quiet when she needs to. She makes love to Dee every night they have a modicum of privacy with a fierceness that scares Dee. After one lovemaking session that leaves Dee’s muscles as limp as noodles, she asks, “You aren’t planning to kill yourself, are you Alex?”
Alex scoffs, though her eyes slide away from Dee’s in a way she doesn’t like at all.
“Alex. I know it was hard finding your family like that. I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could say that would make it better. All I know is you’ll never find out if things get better if you take your life.”
Alex closes her eyes, tears slipping from beneath her eyelashes. “Things won’t get better. How can they? Everyone’s dead. And if they aren’t, they soon will be. I should have stayed in the Complex. I shouldn’t have gotten caught up in your silly, ridiculous quest for your kids. I should have known better than to go looking for answers. Fuck.”
“Hey, if you want to go back to the Complex—”
“No. I’m not letting you screw up your chance to see your kids.”
“Alex—”
“No. And I promise I won’t leave without saying goodbye.”
Dee brushes the tears from Alex’s face, but they continue to fall. “You’re saying goodbye?”
“Maybe. Maybe I a
m.”
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“Because there’s no place in Eatonville for me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dee says. “I want you there,” and she finds that this time she means it. She does want her there.
Alex smiles, but it’s a pale facsimile of her real one. “I know you think that.”
Dee presses her forehead against Alex’s, and they lay like that until Alex falls asleep. Dee does not because she knows how these things work. She falls asleep, Alex sneaks out, and ends up dead. So she stays awake until dawn touches the sky and only then does she let herself doze.
When she wakes again, she is sure Alex will be gone, but she’s still there, still asleep, her eyes swollen from the tears the night before.
A soft knock on the door compels Dee to get to her feet and put on clothes. It’s Gloria with a couple plates full of food. “Thought you might be hungry. It’s clearing up out there. We ought to be able to move soon.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Gloria nods and leaves.
Dee takes the plate back inside and nudges Alex awake so they can share their breakfast.
“I’m sorry about last night,” Alex says around a mouthful of biscuit. “I wasn’t in a good place.”
Dee nods. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” Alex’s smile this time is bigger, more genuine. “I really am. I … it was hard seeing them like that. So hard. I guess I expected to walk in and have the girls …” her voice wobbles on the word, “have the girls come wrap their arms around my legs. Have my brother hug me. I didn’t expect …” She trails off. “Who could, right?”
“I’m sorry,” Dee says, the words inadequate, but all she has.
“I know.” She takes another bite and another, then wipes her lips when gravy dribbles down her chin. “This is good. Gloria went all out.”
“She’s worried about you.” We all are, she thinks, but she doesn’t say it, doesn’t want to chase Alex back into her shell.
“I was worried about me too.” She sighs. “This sucks. But I’m glad we’re getting out of town.”
“If we get out.”
She smiles. “We will. We’re getting you to your boys. Come hell or high water.” She leans toward Dee, her lips puckered, and with a laugh, Dee kisses her. “Promise.”
“Thank you.” And then breakfast is forgotten because Alex pulls her in, pulls her close, pulls off the clothes Dee just put on and makes love to her again. And again, as if hoping it will help her forget everything.
And for a little while, she does.
44
Then
We didn’t even get out of South Dakota before the next snowstorm stopped us. It wasn’t as bad as the one we lost Isaac and Paisley in, but it still sucked. I drove until I heard Dan’s small gasp and his whispered, “Holy fuck.”
“What? What?”
“There. Look.”
I followed his finger and gasped myself. A big D was painted on the side of a diner. A diner with its lights on. Lights. “Oh my god,” I breathed, then yanked the wheel hard right. We were out of the truck and running for the door without even glancing around us. Lana could be in there, Owen, and nothing in the world would have stopped us from getting to the door and knocking. Knocking.
Knocking.
“Owen! Owen it’s Daddy. Daddy! Please baby.”
“What do you want?”
We both stumbled back, startled. The voice was low, rough, and all human.
“We’re looking for our people,” I said, since Dan appeared to have been struck dumb. “A woman named Lana and a boy named Owen.” I realized that we were out in the open, yelling, and I put my back to the door to look around us. Nothing. Not yet anyway. “Please?”
The door opened and I almost fell into the man’s arms who let us in. He steadied me, and I turned, looking frantically around the place. Dan’s face lit up and he almost knocked me over as he ran past me. “Owen!”
“Daddy!”
I covered my mouth with my hands as I watched them reunite, the utter impossibility of it stunning me into silence. I barely heard the door click behind me, nor did I register the old man’s hand on my shoulder as Dan and Owen hugged and cried and laughed, all at once.
“Did you say Lana?” the old guy said after a bit of time.
I nodded. “Is she here?”
“She was. We tried talking her into staying with us, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She had to get to her boys, she said. As you can see, we did get her to leave the boy.”
Boy. “What about the little girl?”
The man shook his head. “There wasn’t a little girl with them when they got here.” He gazed at me kindly. “Would you like some tea? Maybe a meal?”
“Yes, please,” I said quietly. I was upset I’d missed Lana again, but glad I had more proof she was alive. Alive and well and determined. That was my Lana.
I accepted the tea and the food: a greasy burger and French fries. It was probably the best burger I’d ever eaten and certainly the best food I’d had since the apocalypse started a thousand years ago. I ate it all in mere minutes and tamped down the urge to ask for more. I doubted these people had a ton of supplies, though none of them looked as though they were starving.
Dan had his own meal after a bit, Owen in his lap as he ate. The little boy talked nonstop to his dad, telling him about the friend he had here and the things they’d done, and Dan soaked it all in like a sponge, his eyes never leaving Owen’s face.
I was the one who brought our stuff in, and I was the one who laid out our sleeping bags because Dan would not let go of his kid and who could blame him?
And if I felt a little jealous that he was getting to hold his kid and I wasn’t, well, that was understandable, right?
It wasn’t until the storm stopped and the snow began melting that I realized what Dan’s reunion with Owen meant.
“I’m not going,” Dan said a few weeks later. “I’m sorry, but I’m not taking Owen out in that again. Not ever, not if I can help it.”
I supposed I should have expected this answer, but I hadn’t. He’d been with me so long, since the beginning practically. How could I make it the rest of the way without him? “Okay,” I said, not sure what else I could say. I wanted to beg him to come but I understood why he didn’t want to. It was dangerous out there. Out there, people died. Out there sucked.
He went on about how important it was for him to keep Owen safe until he finally noticed my face. “Aw god, Dee. I’m sorry. No, I really am. If it was just me—”
“Stop. You don’t have to say it. I’d feel the same way if our roles were reversed. It’s okay.”
He nodded, but looked troubled, and it took Owen a few tries before he caught his dad’s attention again and was off to the races about the tanks he’d read about in a book one of the survivors in the diner had given him.
The old man who’d let us in the first night we arrived was named Bill. Bill was dead set against me leaving them and said as much. “I told your wife it was dangerous out there. If she’d listened to me, she would have been here when you arrived. Think of the reunion that would have made.” He sighed, shaking his head. “You sure I can’t change your mind? We could use you here. We’re planning to get supplies from the store. The more of us there are, the better off we’ll be.”
“No,” I said, “I can’t. Same reason as Lana. I need to get to our boys. And that’s where I’ll find her.” If she makes it, an evil part of me whispered. I ignored it as best I could. “Thank you, though. It means a lot you took them in when they needed help.”
“Of course,” he said.
When it was time for me to go again, when the roads had cleared enough I thought I could make it a few more miles down the road at least, Dan helped me load the truck. “You be safe out there, Dee. You hear me?”
I nodded, grateful for everything he’d done to help get me this far. “You too. I’m glad you found Owen.”
“I�
��m glad Lana got him here safely. I’m not sure what I would have done …” He stopped, unable to continue.
I gave him a hug, then got into the truck, feeling very lonely in it all by myself. What would I do if I got stuck on the road in the snow? What if I got caught in a mob? Alone, I was way more vulnerable, but I couldn’t stay here, not when I knew Lana was out there somewhere.
I looked back once and saw Dan standing in the door. He waved and then disappeared inside. I didn’t look back again.
45
Now
Once they get out to the highway and away from the city, it’s easier going. The roads are clearer than Dee expected and so they’re able to hit speeds of forty miles per hour for half-mile stretches at a time. They don’t go too fast because they’re seasoned survivors of the apocalypse and know the world is just waiting around the corner to fuck them up.
Dee is driving, her eyes constantly swinging back and forth across the landscape, looking for dangers, looking for them. Her neck will be sore when the driving is over, but she’s hoping she’ll be in her boys’ arms when that comes. If she is, any lingering neck pain will be forgotten.
Soon, boys. I’ll be there soon.
She wishes she dares believe Lana will be there too, but she can’t let herself think it. If that hope grows inside her now, she isn’t sure what will happen to her sanity if things go wrong. And they always go wrong, don’t they?
Alex starts singing Take Me Home, Country Roads, and although they are as far away from the country as they can be, the rest of them sing along, the mood merrier than it’s ever been. Dee finds herself growing more excited as they go, switching her time between the road and the odometer. Thirty miles to go, then twenty.
“What is that?” Gloria asks as Dee slows the SUV.
Someone has pushed or driven cars across the road to create a barrier. The cars butt up against a building on one side and disappear into the trees on the other.