Desolation (Book 2): Into the Inferno

by Lucin, David

  Sophie dug around in her pocket some more. Lighter in hand, she sparked the end of her cigarette, took a long drag, and blew out a thick cloud.

  Holding in a cough, Jenn waved to clear the air. “Those will kill you. Come inside and I can introduce you to what a lifetime of smoking looks like.”

  Sophie took another drag. “That’s very generous of you, but I think I’ll pass.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Jenn led them left. They passed a foreclosed house, the doors and windows boarded up. Weeds sprouted through the gravel on the front lawn, and cracks scratched the concrete driveway. Discolored patches on the roof marked the spots where solar panels once lay.

  “Okay,” Jenn said, growing impatient, “how’d you find out where I live?”

  Sophie brought the cigarette to her lips. “I know a lot about you, Jenn Isabelle Jansen. I was surprised that ‘Jenn’ wasn’t short for ‘Jennifer.’ Just Jenn. Weird. And robotics engineering at NAU? Straight A’s, too, despite the lackluster attendance record.”

  Jenn folded her arms across her chest. She tried to glare at Sophie but struggled to hold eye contact. “How’d you find all this out about me?”

  “It’s hard to hide when you’re Gary Ruiz’s billet. Some random nobody in town, sure, you might’ve been a bit tougher to track down. But Gary freaking Ruiz? Yeah, that wasn’t much of a challenge.” Sophie took a pull of her cigarette. “Not to mention, I’ve lived here for a long time, so I started asking around about you after the little incident in my shop. You remember? The one where you attracted some cops who subsequently broke my window and then tried to arrest me for allegedly threatening them?”

  Jenn rubbed her arm and recalled the smell of metal shavings and rubber and the blood on Sam’s lip. An image of the brute with the pipe washed it all away. “So that’s what you’re here for?” Jenn barked an insincere laugh. “You want money for your window? You do realize that almost no cars work anymore, right? I think your business is done for.” She tried to lace those final words with scorn, but they sounded more like a question than an insult.

  Sophie tapped some ash off the end of her smoke. “I don’t care about my shop. That’s not why I’m here. I’m not sure if you know this, but a scouting party went out two days ago, headed for the city.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  Sophie paused and fiddled with a golden deer antler pendant on her necklace. “They were supposed to come home yesterday afternoon at the latest. We haven’t heard anything.”

  “Did you visit just to give me an update on current affairs, or is there a point to this conversation?”

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  “Proposition?”

  “Yeah.” Sophie took a drag of her cigarette. “Proposition. You want a definition?”

  “No, I—”

  “It’s a joke. You must know what that word means, at least.”

  Jenn ground her teeth.

  “Apparently not,” Sophie said. “Whatever. I’m putting a team together to track them down. If anything happened to them, we need to find out what it was. Without information about the outside world, Flagstaff’s a sitting duck.”

  Sophie made a good point. When Jenn and Sam left for the cabin, they had no idea what they’d face. Payson was worse than she could have imagined. The road there was equally as dangerous. How bad would Phoenix be? What kinds of threats were down there? For all Jenn knew, it could be a war zone. Or maybe not. Maybe the military had secured the city and set up a relief camp somewhere. After all, the refugees were coming from the west, not the south. Something lurking in Jenn’s mind, something borne in Payson, told her that wasn’t the case.

  “What’s your proposition, then?” Jenn asked. “Why are you here?”

  “I want you to come with us.”

  Jenn snorted. This had to be a joke or some sick, roundabout way for Sophie to get money for the broken window at Minute Tire. “Come with you?” A laugh bubbled up from her gut. “You hate me.”

  “True.” Sophie dropped her cigarette and squished it with the heel of her boot. Didn’t she know there were laws against that? Did she even care? “You did get my window busted, but you stood up for yourself. I respect that.”

  “Why are you going?” Jenn asked. “Why not the cops?”

  Sophie continued down the road. “Cops,” she repeated, letting the word hang. “They’re busy enough, and now we’ve got a refugee crisis on our hands. You’re aware of this development, I assume.”

  Jenn pictured the destitute crowd pulling itself through the smoke. She heard the coughing, the wet hacking of the man who threw up, and the echo of the gunfire off the rock face. Did Sophie find out that Jenn was there?

  “Yeah, I heard,” she managed to say.

  “Then you know the mayor’s letting them stay.”

  She did. Last night, when Gary finally returned home around 10:00 p.m., he updated everyone on the situation. Liam had tentatively agreed to take in the refugees. His superiors backed him. When Mayor Andrews found out, she objected, but the refugees were already walking into town under a police escort. They were taken to the hospital, where they’d receive treatment for dehydration, smoke inhalation, and, frighteningly, radiation poisoning. According to Gary, Nellis Air Force Base in Las Vegas was likely targeted with ground bursts meant to destroy an underground cache of nuclear missiles—one of the largest such stockpiles in the country. Because the bombs hit the surface, he explained, the fireballs vaporized dirt and dust and anything else they touched. That material then flew into the sky with the mushroom clouds and later came down as radioactive fallout. He was surprised that any refugees had made it this far alive.

  “That’s news to me,” Jenn said, feigning ignorance. She didn’t trust Sophie, so the less she knew about her involvement, the better. Best she continue believing that Jenn was a claustrophobic college girl with a short temper. Three days ago, that would have been true. “You still haven’t told me why you want me to come.”

  “Yes, that.” Sophie pulled out another cigarette. She lit it and mumbled, “I hear you’re from the city. We could use someone who knows their way around, can be our guide, all that crap. Plus, I gather you went on a little adventure already. Payson, right?”

  Jenn fought to keep her face neutral.

  Sophie saw straight through her. “So it’s true,” she said with a wave of her cigarette. “Trust me, I didn’t believe it at first. I’ll admit you have guts, but you might be crazy.”

  “How’d you find out?” Jenn blurted. Did Sophie know what happened with Yankees Hat? How could she? Had Sam told someone? Gary? If they had, how would Sophie have heard about it? Was she married to a cop?

  Sophie rested a hand on her hip and bent her knee. “Really? I know your grades, for crying out loud. I know you hit .422 in your senior year and should’ve gotten a scholarship to play somewhere. Would’ve, actually, if not for the war. You’re seriously asking me how I found out about two people taking a run to Payson three days after a nationwide EMP and nuclear attack isolated our crappy little town from the outside world?”

  Jenn opened her mouth to argue the point but couldn’t. A new family, Sam’s, had moved into the neighborhood. Someone must have noticed that. Kate from next door, probably. She seemed like a gossiper.

  “I’m not interested,” Jenn said.

  “You sure?” Sophie asked.

  She wasn’t. For a full day after the bombs, she’d planned to go to Phoenix and search for her family. Now, days later, the opportunity presented itself again. But what was the point? What would she find down there?

  “Nope. Not even a little bit.”

  Jenn started for home, but Sophie spoke again. “Okay, look, I realize we got off on the wrong foot at my shop.” The sharp lines on her face softened. “I was a tad short with you. Impatient. I could have listened to you and taken you seriously. In my defense, you were being a bitch. Trust me, I wanted to pistol-whip you more than you know, but as far as I’m concer
ned, it’s all water under the bridge. I don’t want money for my window. You’re right: my business is effectively finished for the foreseeable future.”

  “I was being the bitch?” Jenn said. “You were the one who wouldn’t let anyone leave because you thought there was fallout when there wasn’t any. Are you the worst doomsdayer ever? You bother reading up on any of this stuff?”

  Sophie cringed at that. Jenn expected her to retaliate. Part of her welcomed it. Having it out with Sophie, right here and right now, might ease the persistent ache in her belly. It could even help her forget about Payson, if only for a minute or two.

  “I’m trying to extend the olive branch here,” Sophie continued. “Bury the hatchet. Hand you a freaking dove. Whatever metaphor you want to use. I’m asking you to come because you have experience out there.” She gestured around with her cigarette, which left trails of wispy smoke in its wake. “If what’s happened this last week is any indication, the world’s gone completely to hell. Nobody has the balls”—she made a grotesque squeezing gesture—“to leave town anymore. They’re battening down the hatches and hoping to ride this out. The ones who did leave went missing, except for you and your boyfriend. So here’s what I see: either you’re the luckiest girl on Earth, or you know how to handle yourself and are willing to do what it takes to get things done. If I had to bet, I’m putting my chips on the second one. I need a guide who’s seen firsthand what it’s like out there, not just someone who knows the city. A map could help me with that.”

  Jenn rubbed her watch. Mom and Dad are dead, she reminded herself. They had to be. Otherwise, they would have come to Flagstaff. Refugees had trekked all the way here from Las Vegas; if her parents survived, they could have walked from Phoenix by now. But no one was coming from that direction, and she wanted to learn why—needed to, even.

  Sophie stomped out her cigarette. “You listening to me, Jansen?”

  “Why do you care so much?” Jenn asked.

  “Care about what?”

  “About Flagstaff. About the scouting party. You’ve probably got a piece of land with solar and a cellar full of canned food and guns. You can hide away with your husband and wait this all out.”

  Sophie touched her necklace again. She did that earlier, too, when she first mentioned the missing expedition. Why?

  “I like to think I’m a better citizen than that,” Sophie said. “Prepared or not, my fate’s intertwined with the rest of this town. If it goes down, so do I.”

  Jenn smelled blood in the water. “No, that’s not it. That necklace. You keep touching it whenever the scouting mission comes up.”

  Eyes wide, Sophie dropped her hand from her collarbone and shoved it into her pants pocket.

  “You don’t care about Flagstaff,” Jenn started. “You’re looking for someone.”

  Sophie took out another cigarette, her third already. Waving it absently, she said, “Jenn Jansen. She’s smarter than she looks. Observant. I thought engineers were all antisocial nerds, but not you.” She lit up. “But yeah, I’m looking for someone: my husband. It was his bright idea to lead the first party. You happy now?”

  Jenn’s throat thickened, and she couldn’t speak. She shouldn’t have pressed Sophie. It wasn’t fair. Yes, she had a right to know what Sophie had at stake, but Jenn could have been more tactful. She of all people knew how it felt to lose someone. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Sophie exhaled smoke through her nose. It made Jenn think of an animated bull. “No harm done. Guess it’s best you hear the truth. But all that crap about me not caring about this town? You’re off the mark there. I do care about it—and at least a few of the people who live here.” She flicked her lighter on and watched the flame dance. “Any more questions? Concerns? Comments? If we’re getting it all out, let’s get it all out. No secrets.”

  Knowingly, she eyed Jenn, whose skin itched everywhere. Sophie knew about her parents. She must have. How could she not? She knew Jenn’s grades and batting average. But so what if she did? Did it matter? A realization struck her: she had something in common with Sophie. Both wanted to find people they loved.

  “Sleep on it,” Sophie continued. “Talk it through with your boyfriend and your billets. Hell, he can come, too, if he wants. Even Gary. I’d love to have an ex-cop on the team, but I doubt he’ll leave his wife. She’s got, what, COPD?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Must be tough,” Sophie said sincerely. “It took out my dad in the end.” Her tone was so flat and emotionless that she could have been reciting a fact from Wikipedia. It made Jenn suspect that Sophie’s relationship with her father was rough. She decided not to ask about it. Why did she care in the first place? This was Sophie—the same person who would have shot Jenn to keep her from breaking out of Minute Tire.

  “Anyway,” Sophie continued, “we’re leaving the shop tomorrow at eight, sharp. You want to tag along, great, we could use you. Meet us there. If not, no hard feelings.”

  With that, she flicked her half-smoked cigarette onto the road and walked off.

  Jenn stood, her hands in her pockets, and gazed at Sam’s new house down the street.

  Sophie’s plan sounded insane. A trip into the city? No way. Phoenix was dangerous enough before the bombs. Now? It would be anarchy at best, assuming anything survived the blasts.

  But the prospect of finding her parents niggled at her, prickling the skin on her neck like a persistent itch.

  They’re gone, she told herself for the thousandth time. If she went with Sophie, she would go to learn about the outside world and help protect Flagstaff. She would go for Gary, Maria, Sam, and Nicole. Even Barbara and Kevin.

  Gary would understand. Would Sam? What about Maria? Could Jenn tell her she was leaving again so soon?

  4

  The Ruiz house was full again. Jenn, seated at the table with Ajax sprawled across her lap, tried not to let it bother her, but the walls and the roof pressed in from all sides.

  A tick came from the living room.

  She focused her attention on Ajax. He purred and rubbed his cheek on her knuckle.

  Another tick. Jenn felt this one in the roots of her teeth.

  She spun around in her chair. Sam sat cross-legged beside the coffee table. Opposite him and on the couch was Barbara, dressed as always in her finest Arcadian housewife attire: bright pink yoga pants, a neon green long-sleeved exercise top, and fake eyelashes. They were playing a game of Connect Four, which Gary had retrieved from the shed and dusted off yesterday.

  Barbara dropped a red disc that landed with a tick. The persistent ache in Jenn’s belly flared up by an order of magnitude. Couldn’t they be quieter? It was Connect Four. How could they possibly be making so much noise?

  Sam played a black piece. Tick.

  An uncomfortable sensation rolled up her spine. Why did Sam sit like that? He was a grown man, not an eight-year-old girl. Then there was Barbara. Did she need to wear those bright clothes? Sure, that was the trending style in the city, but really? Here? In Flagstaff? And why the makeup? Who was she trying to impress?

  Tick. Jenn imagined herself storming over, slapping the game away with an open palm, and flipping the table on its side. The look on Barbara’s face would make the whole episode worth it.

  Ajax screeched and jumped off Jenn’s lap. She must have been squeezing him.

  A bang came from the kitchen. Maria lifted her wooden rolling pin and slapped it down on a ball of yellow dough. Cornbread again. Great. Other than the MRE Jenn and Sam shared after losing the Tesla, it was all she’d eaten lately. Would she ever eat anything else?

  Beside Maria, Nicole laughed. Two days had passed since Payson, and she still hadn’t spoken to Jenn. No, she wouldn’t even look at her. At the creek, they were sisters. They were strangers now. She might be in shock. Or maybe she thought Jenn was a monster for killing that man.

  Jenn scratched her forearm. It felt like ants were crawling on her skin. She had the sudden urge to claw it all off.

&nb
sp; Another tick.

  “Could you possibly make more noise?” she snapped.

  Barbara recoiled and covered her mouth with her hands. Jenn had seen better acting in elementary school drama productions. Sam cocked his head to the side and thrust out his bottom lip. The question dangled on the tip of his tongue. Are you okay? Jenn wanted to scream at him.

  The patio door slid open, and orange sunlight streamed into the kitchen. With it came Gary and Kevin, who carried a platter of fresh cornbread from the barbecue. He maneuvered past Nicole and made for the table.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Gary announced, stating the obvious. He always did that.

  When everyone sat, Sam took the seat next to Jenn. He brushed against her knee, and she felt herself flinch. “Hey,” he started. “Are you—”

  “Fine, Sam.” She speared a patty of cornbread with her fork.

  Kevin set one on the plate in front of Barbara, who turned her nose up at it. “This is it? A single piece? Hardly a meal where I come from.”

  Barbara’s voice made Jenn twitch. It annoyed her more than the way Gary slurped his drinks to avoid getting his mustache wet.

  “We’re rationing, Mom,” Nicole said without lifting her head. “We can’t eat more than our basal metabolic rates. Like, it’ll probably have to be less for a while. But cornbread’s calorie-dense, so you’ll feel full.”

  “That’s right,” Gary agreed. “Everyone will have to make some sacrifices. When I think about it, it’s a good thing that exams start in late April now, not early May like they did in my day. Half the students went home before all this happened, so there’s fewer mouths to feed in town.”

  Barbara sighed with her entire body. When she reached for her cornbread, Kevin said, “Wait, it’ll be—”

  “Ouch!” she cried and flailed with enough force to shake the table.

  “—hot,” Kevin finished.

  Barbara sucked her finger and whimpered. Sam rested a comforting hand on her back.

  Jenn rolled her eyes. Barbara was worse than how he described her. Vindictive and mean, yes, but he didn’t say that she was borderline stupid. Still, somehow, they’d become fast friends. The perfect mother and son. Why? It wasn’t like Barbara all of a sudden stopped being a narcissistic nightmare. Really, when Jenn thought about it, Sam only started caring about his mother after she lost hers. The notion made her resent him.