by Thunboe, Bo
Toughen up, Champ.
The next cross street was Fulton, but a third street crossed these two making a very wide intersection. She would be visible in six directions while crossing it. She crouched and stuck her head around the corner and looked up and down the streets, ears straining for any sounds. She saw no one, and heard only a long screech of metal a long way off. She darted across the intersection and straight down the sidewalk overhung with trees, a parking lot to her left with a small smattering of cars. The strong earthy scent of the river rose up around her.
The riverside area here was prettied up with brick sidewalks and a small gathering space with benches and public art. It was probably a beautiful spot during good weather, but in the cold night it looked bleak.
She took off south, the path an elegant brick boulevard with stately trees down the center. It was dark here under the trees, and quiet. The only sound the whisper of water against the ice lining the river.
And the pounding of her own heart.
She took some deep breaths to calm herself. The boulevard changed from brick to concrete, dipped closer to the water, and disappeared in the shadowed recess between the giant riverboat casino and the building that serviced it. She’d read about the floating casino in a brochure in her hotel room. She hooked her thumbs in the straps of her backpack and continued on. As she got closer, she realized the path went underneath a wing of the building that reached out to the riverboat for passenger boarding.
She didn’t like the look of the yawning darkness between the boat and the building, but she walked quickly. Hair rose on her arms and the nape of her neck as she dropped down into the darkness. She broke into a jog to get through the eeriness quicker. The path flattened, then started to rise, the lighter sky visible ahead of her. Almost out! A flame flared to her right, illuminating a bearded face and a cigarette, then several voices rose in a clamor but then she was past the noise. She released the straps to pump her arms and flew up the incline toward the light, voices behind her and feet pounding pavement echoing in the narrow space. She burst into the moonlight and looked back. Five of them coming up behind her. One far in front, the other four lagging behind.
Faster Champ, or you’ll—
51
Sean went back inside after Dan was out of sight. He put a fresh quarter-log on the fire, sat on the floor, and stared into the flames. His mom stretched out on the couch. The log hissed and popped when the moisture trapped in the wood suddenly burst free. A sound behind him. His mom was crying. “Dan will find her, Mom.”
When her sobbing finally stopped, she said, “I think we need to move.”
“What do you mean?”
She propped herself up on an elbow. “The Brady’s house has a fireplace in that lower level family room. It’s insulated by being underground and is a smaller room than this. It’ll take a lot less wood to heat it. And it has that walkout patio door so there’s light.”
“But it’s not our house.”
“The Bradys are in Florida. Their whole family together. She’s from there and they were staying with her sister’s family. Why even try to come back? They aren’t going to ride bicycles over a thousand miles just for the house.”
“I guess, but taking over their house—I don’t know. It seems wrong.”
“It’ll increase our chance of survival.”
Chance. The word crowded Sean’s head with doubt. “We will survive, Mom.”
She put her hand on his shoulder. “But not by saying so. We have to do whatever we can—whatever we have to—to better our odds.”
“Was Dan okay with this?”
“He will be.” She stretched back out on the couch.
Soon her breathing evened out and developed into a gentle snore. Sean lay back and watched the firelight flickering on the ceiling. His mom was right. The Brady family was not coming back and their house would be better for this cold weather. But it wouldn’t go over well with the neighbors. Or maybe it would. Maybe it would free them all up to raid the other empty houses on the court for whatever they needed. He closed his eyes but he was too keyed up to sleep. He snuck away from the couch, grabbed his coat and boots and went into the garage. He put on his boots and outerwear, then walked up the court to its entrance. He stood in the deep shadow of an evergreen and looked up and down the street.
They were pretty well hidden. Even with the address and Google maps his friends often drove right past the entrance. Maybe the craziness Dan had seen on his way home wouldn’t find them here on the court.
Or, was the craziness here already?
52
Dan rode through the little towns strung along the river. The night had stayed clear, and cold, but exertion kept him warm and the scarf kept the wind off his face. He’d encountered no one on the trail itself and the people he saw near it—mostly huddled around fires—paid little attention to him.
As he left South Elgin, he entered a long section of tree-shadowed trail and slowed. The path was narrower here, paved in bumpy asphalt. It hugged a railroad siding then crossed it and bordered a gravel road that held a long string of houses backing to the Wolf River. In Weston, riverside lots held giant homes with terraced patios and elaborate landscaping. These homes were small ranches, some had nice landscaping and bright paintwork but others were little more than tarpaper shacks surrounded by abandoned junk.
Over the next few miles the trail crossed the railbed and riverside streets many times and Dan kept his speed low. He saw several groups of people around bonfires, but passed them without incident. When the trail dropped down next to the river and under a giant highway overpass, he knew downtown Elgin was only a few miles ahead of him.
The houses now were farther from the river across a wide flat plain of unkempt grassland. Suddenly, the trail broke out into the open, the path straight and smooth. He sped up, the river flowing to his left, the moon glinting off the ice that girded the shore. The low skyline of downtown Elgin in front of him.
A high chain-link fence stood between Dan and an apartment complex, then the backside of a strip mall. He stopped in the moon shadow of some trees on the edge of a wide, freshly paved street.
Something felt… wrong. Had he seen something? Heard something? He cast his gaze back and forth, searching, listening. He pulled his scarf down to be more open to whatever he’d sensed but couldn’t identify.
He waited.
A distant shout.
Several more.
Breaking glass.
But all so far away he couldn’t even tell what direction the sounds came from. He rolled on. He crossed the street and squeezed the brakes as he descended an incline as the trail shifted closer to the river. Elgin’s riverboat casino appeared to his left, docked tight to the shore, a glass enclosed walkway extending from it to a building on the shore. The trail went underneath this gangplank.
He stopped and straddled the bike, gazing around him. No one and nothing. But the darkness under the walkway felt ominous. He considered going around the front of the casino, but Erin would stay on the path so he needed to stay on the path.
He pulled off his gloves and stuffed them in his pocket and took out the gun. He rode with his left hand on the handlebars and the right gripping the gun held tight to his side. He rolled down into the darkness, the menace so heavy it felt like weight. He braked the whole way down, the bike going so slowly he had trouble keeping it upright. When he entered the darkest stretch, he pedaled again and was through and out into the moonlight. He stopped at the top of the incline and looked back, something snagging his attention. But what? He’d seen and heard nothing down in that darkness.
“You’re losing it, Fallon.” He put the gun away, his gloves on, and got moving. The trail was now a brick-paved path bifurcated by a concrete-curbed median planted with trees and shriveled perennials. Erin’s hotel was on the north side of town and across the river. He’d have to drop off the trail and take city streets at some point and just pray he didn’t miss her if he picked the wrong r
oute.
To his right lay a large open grass field set up as a fancy outdoor auditorium space, then he was in the city itself, the path even tidier with a black iron fence separating it from the iced edge of the river, and several white canopies hung over it for shade. As he approached downtown proper, the path kicked over to the street and he rode up the incline and stopped under a dead traffic light.
Shouting.
From off to the right.
No discernable words, just anger, and laughter, then one distinct word.
“Help!”
A woman’s voice, maybe a girl’s.
Family First. But that could be Erin calling for help. He couldn’t pass without knowing for sure.
He rode east, slowly, eyes alert.
A crash of glass and a whump that he felt in his chest.
An orange glow ahead. He got off his bike and hid it among a group of elevated brick planters in a courtyard off the next street corner. He took off his gloves, tucked the big flashlight into an inner pocket of his coat, then palmed the gun. He held it ahead of him as he moved forward, hugging the buildings on the south side of the street where the moon shadow fell.
He paused in the deeper shadows under a red and black awning. Across the street and a block ahead smoke poured from a gaping window frame, billowed under a black awning, then curled out and up and was snatched away by the wind.
“Help!”
Laughter. A huddle of men stood in the street looking up at the second-floor window.
Dan followed their gaze and saw nothing. The men were closer so must have been able to see who was crying out for help.
Whether the woman screaming for help was Erin, or not, Dan felt the pull of obligation. He looked around. An alley cut north from beside the burning building, giving Dan an idea. He ran back to the last intersection, turned north, and found an alley within a hundred feet. He took it west and the alley soon widened where four alleys met. Down one of these he saw the men, the orange glow of the fire reflecting off them. They were shouting now, taunting and jeering. Dan darted across the alley and into the shadow of the burning building. The back of it was only one story high but a wooden staircase rose to the roof. He dashed up the stairs and across a black tar roof to the two-story portion of the building. A metal vent spun on the flat roof, smoke pouring from it, flames darting through the smoke.
He peered through the window in the door. A cluttered kitchen and a hallway and an open door into a bedroom. A pair of pajama-clad legs up to the knee visible on a bed.
Crackling behind him. He reached for the doorknob but still had the gun in his hand. He stuffed it in his pocket and tried the door. It was unlocked.
When he opened it a stream of smoke poured into his face. He crouched down. The apartment was filling with smoke. He didn’t see any flames.
“Hello!” He called out.
The legs moved, then a long moan. “I’m in the front bedroom.”
He darted across the wood floor and into a room aglow with the fire reflecting off the windows across the street. Smoke leaked through cracks in the floor. A woman lay on a double bed. She was under the covers but her condition was evident. She was very pregnant.
She looked at him “My wife went for a doctor, but then those assholes came.” She gestured toward the window. “Can you help me?”
Dan scooped her up and carried her through the kitchen. He sat her down on a kitchen chair to find her a coat. When her feet touched the floor, she snatched them back up. “The floor’s hot.”
He opened the back door, picked her up, but stopped in the doorway. The roof vent now spun so fast it whistled and shot a fire tornado into the sky. The black tar roof smoked and as he looked for a clear path across it a section to his right collapsed.
He looked back into the apartment, then back across the roof. It was the only way out. He clutched the woman tight to his chest and ran for it, stepping as lightly as he could. They made it to the stairs, down, and into the parking lot behind the building. His arms were numb and his lower back throbbed.
“I need to set you down.”
He lowered her until her feet touched the ground and she stood next to him, barefoot, a thin robe billowing around her. This was no good. He pulled off his coat and hat and put them on her.
“Where can I take you?”
“I—”
“Psst!”
A woman waved from an open window on the second floor of the building across the alley. The pregnant woman looked that way. “That’s Inez. Take—” She bent over with a long moan, both hands around her belly. When she stood back up her face gleamed with sweat. “I’m in labor.”
Dan scooped her up and edged over to the alley. He stuck his head out and looked toward the front of the building. The men were still there, looking up, rapt at the destruction they’d caused.
He crossed the alley slowly, afraid a fast motion would attract their attention. He made it, then climbed the wooden stairs to the second floor. The door opened as he hit the last step and he walked into a large kitchen. A short Latina woman—presumably Inez—closed the door behind him. “Through here.” She led him to a bedroom with one window and a skylight. She pulled a heavy drape across the window while Dan set the pregnant woman on the bed.
The woman moaned and bucked, grabbing her belly.
“She said she’s in labor. She just had a contraction when we were down in the alley. Like a minute ago.”
“The baby’s coming.” Inez bent over the bed and stroked the pregnant woman’s head. “It’s going to be okay, Julia. You’re safe here.”
“Marla went to find a doctor. We need—”
“We’ll keep an eye out for her.”
Inez grabbed Dan’s arm and dragged him out to the kitchen. “Keep watch. When Marla gets back—she’s tall and kind of big—get her in here.”
Dan was shaking his head before she finished. He had his own mission. “I can’t stay. I need my coat and hat and—”
“Please! When Marla gets back and sees the building in flames, she’ll think Julia is still in there. She’ll try to go inside.”
Dan ground his teeth, but nodded. Hopefully this woman wouldn’t be long. “Give me my coat and I’ll do it.”
Back outside. He confirmed the men were still mesmerized by the flames, then darted behind the building and hid in the shadows under the stairs he’d taken to the roof. He needed to be looking for Erin. This wasn’t his problem. These people were not his family. He—
“Come out of there.” A tall burly woman stood in front of him. She held a gun and its muzzle was pointed straight at his head. Dan raised his hands and stood. “Did you do this? Did you kill my—”
“Are you Marla?”
The wall behind Dan shuddered. He pulled off a glove and felt the brick. It was hot.
“How do you know my name.”
“Julia is with Inez across the—” The wall collapsed.
53
Mary woke gasping. It was cold and dark and the scent of burning wood and ashes was strong. She was on the couch in the family room. She sat up and looked toward the front window. It was still night, the moon glowing. Dan and Erin were out there somewhere. Out where Dan used a gun twice just to get home from Iowa.
Has he found her?
Her mind felt… fractured. Filled with static that buzzed and crackled. She leaned back, hands trapped between her thighs, eyes closed, and focused on her breathing—slow, deep, and even. On the fire’s heat. On the— Erin running, men chasing, long arms reaching for her. Tearing at her, throwing her to the ground. Erin screams, a long high-pitched wail that turns into a sob as her clothing is ripped—
“Mom?”
“Erin?” Mary’s eyes jacked open, but it wasn’t Erin. It was Sean, lying on the floor in his sleeping bag.
She leaned over and cupped his face with her hand. His eyes were just barely open, and his face was slack. He probably wouldn’t even remember this in the morning. “Go back to sleep.”
; He lay back down. When his breathing settled into a strong rhythm, she knelt in front of the fireplace. The coals glowed dully with red worms of heat that seemed to move. She blew on the coals and they glowed brighter for a moment before dying back down. She eased the screen open in its track and put a fresh log on the fire. Within a few seconds the bark ignited, flames sprouting up and warming her face. She slid the screen shut, then stood back and stared at the Christmas stockings still hung on opposite ends of the mantle. Mary had embroidered them herself. They both bulged with candy and gum and funny socks. Erin’s also held a few DVDs and Sean’s held a few video games. The electronics were now useless, but the rest had value. She glanced at the Christmas tree in the corner away from the fireplace. Christmas was still coming—time marched on—but it didn’t feel like it. She’d lost the little bit of holiday cheer she’d been able to stir within herself. She would try to get it back—Dan was big on holidays—but not until he brought Erin home.
She stood and went to the front window, staring at the empty street. “Where are you?”
Hopefully Erin had been asleep when the EMP hit. She’d had two matches on Friday so would have been tired. Her Saturday matches were in the afternoon so she would have slept in and wouldn’t even know something happened until she woke up. That could be as late as ten, or even noon.
She would try to text her friends and turn on the TV and turn up the heat, and at some point, would realize something big had happened. Sean was sure he’d once talked with Erin about end-of-the-world scenarios. She didn’t always pay attention to her brother’s science fiction rants, but if she had, would recognize this as an EMP event. She would go talk to Coach Hudson. He would try to keep the girls together. Erin liked him and was loyal to her teammates so that might be enough to keep her there until Dan arrived.