The Age of Hysteria

by Ryan Schow

  They navigated their way around and through the dead traffic, managed to get up to the off-ramp and go another three miles to his house. Rock was relieved to see it still standing. He hadn’t been there in weeks and he prayed Jill was there.

  “This is it?” the driver asked.

  “Yes.”

  “This place is paradise compared to where we just came from,” Gregor said.

  The house looked the same as when he left it, except for a gathering of cars and trucks and a handful of people wandering the yards, seemingly at work.

  “You know all these people?” the driver asked.

  These weren’t the guys from the remodel. These were different people.

  “No.”

  “The don’t look hostile,” Gregor said. “At least not from here.”

  The second they pulled up into the driveway, however, they were met out front by Jill and two other men. All three had guns trained on the two SUVs.

  “Now they do,” the driver said, raising his hands in a calming measure.

  “That’s Jill. She’s my…ex-girlfriend, or whatever. Don’t draw down on her, she’s the trigger happy type.”

  “Don’t get us killed,” Gregor mumbled.

  “Roll down my window,” Rock told the driver.

  He did as Rock asked. Jill saw this and made her way around the side of the SUV yelling at the driver to show his hands. He did. She kept her gun on him the entire time.

  The second she saw Rock, she paused and said, “Jesus Christ, I thought you were dead.”

  “These guys are with me,” Rock tells her. “Without them, I would be dead, so they’re cool.”

  Jill motioned for the two guys he’d never met to lower their weapons and they did. Even though they were friendlies, the two gunslingers hung around anyway.

  When Rock got out of the truck, Jill hugged him gingerly, smiling, almost tearing up. She was speaking about a hundred miles an hour with all the things she thought she’d never get a chance to say again.

  But Rock said nothing.

  He didn’t say one single thing because he wasn’t even paying attention. He was too busy watching the guys in the SUV behind his lifting an unconscious, but alive-looking, Maisie out of truck.

  “Do you have a bed for this one?” the guy holding Maisie asked.

  “We’ll find one,” Jill said.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Jill, what is this?” Rock asked as they went inside the house. “Who are all these people?”

  “I took a few of our friends and their friends in.”

  “Is there a doctor on site?”

  “Yes. That’s why I opened up the house. Some of these people were injured and trying to escape the onslaught. I told them they could come here.”

  “Why would you do that?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  “They said their neighborhood was being hit, that they were packing to leave town. I let them come here because I’d want someone to do that for us if we were hurt and running for our lives.”

  “It looks like you’re running some sort of compound,” he said in observation of the activities around him.

  “I guess maybe I am,” she said, slightly defensive. “The master is set up as a triage center. There are four beds in there. We raided Sutter Medical center in Roseville. It got hit when we were in there. We have cots, medical supplies, etc…”

  Jill helped him into the master bedroom, which was indeed converted to a makeshift hospital room/triage center. He was lowered onto the bed next to Maisie. She was not awake.

  “I’m happy you’re back,” Jill said as she leaned down and kissed him.

  “Why won’t you kiss me back?” she said, pulling back.

  “I can’t feel my lips,” he lied. “I think I have nerve issues, although I’m not sure they’re permanent.”

  “I’ll let you sleep. I’m just glad you’re back.” Before she left, she said, “Who’s this?”

  “We were together in a building that went down. I offered the guys a place to stay if they brought me back here. They brought her, too.”

  “Do you know her?”

  “I think her name is Maisie.”

  “She’s pretty, except for the fact that half her face is messed up.”

  Rock didn’t see that side of her face. Only the good side. Deep down he was worried about her. When Jill left, Maisie’s eyes creaked open.

  “Oh, thank God,” Rock said, his eyes watering. “I thought you died.”

  “I feel dead.”

  “When they told me you were gone, after they took you to the truck, I didn’t understand. I thought they meant you were dead.”

  “Afraid not,” she said, her lack of energy obvious. “Are your lips really numb?”

  He smiled and said, “No.”

  “Why didn’t you kiss her back then?” she asked.

  “I was worried about you.”

  “But you haven’t seen her since all this started,” she said, drowsy and worn down, her voice scratchy. “Don’t you miss her?”

  “I was worried about you.”

  She looked away, laid there. “How bad is my face?” she asked.

  “This side is fine,” Rock said. “Turn toward me if you can.”

  She did, slowly, her face a mask of pain. Her cheek was swollen and he saw the blackened swell of massive bruising.

  “It looks pretty bad,” he said, “but the body is more resilient than we give it credit for.”

  “I always wanted to be beautiful,” she said.

  “What if you already were?”

  “Are you going to tell her what we did together?” she asked.

  “Sharing a steak?” Rock said.

  She half smiled to herself. “You know what I mean.”

  “No.”

  “She’s beautiful,” Maisie said, turning to look at him.

  “Women always think guys want what’s on the outside of a woman, but who a woman is inside is so much more important.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I didn’t like Amber, but I really enjoyed you.”

  “But you and Jill are together,” she said.

  “I shared a steak with you.”

  “I know, but you’re together,” she pressed.

  “No, we’re not.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You have a history together,” she said, the air cooling between them.

  “It’s tumultuous.”

  “We don’t even know each other,” she said.

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” Rock replied. “It’s a way to start fresh.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Me neither,” he said, “but we’ll figure it out.”

  Rock caught a bit of movement in the reflection of the wall mounted TV. His eyes narrowed just enough to see the shadow of a person standing in the doorway behind them. He tried to turn, but he didn’t see anyone.

  He did, however, hear the sounds of someone walking off.

  When he saw the reflection in the TV, thinking back, he was sure it was Jill. His stomach dropped, a wave of dizziness flashing through him.

  Had she been eavesdropping?

  What did she hear?

  These were questions he didn’t have the answers to just yet. Deep down, he wanted to feel like he did nothing wrong—that he and Jill had been on a break when he got together with Maisie—but he knew whatever conversation he was going to have with her would be impossible, that he would hurt her, that she might turn nasty.

  This killed him, the idea of hurting her, but at the same time it was inevitable. He’d slept with another person. That would sting. Regardless, the deep pull of sleep on his body had him yawning and closing his eyes.

  One catastrophe at a time, he told himself as he finally fell into a deep and restful slumber.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Standing at the front window, looking out into the street, I feel the second wave of
this cold front coming in and I try not to panic. Seeing the dusting of snow on the ground, it’s hard not to feel like the world is closing in on us.

  “This blows,” Ice says.

  “Tell me about it,” I reply. “Just sitting here waiting makes things about a bazillion times worse.”

  This goes without saying, but I’m not above admitting my faults. I’m not the most stable person you’ll ever know, and this situation isn’t making it better. Fortunately I have Ice here to balance me. But I can feel the anxiety brewing in him, too. It’s a feeling in the air, a pulsing energy he’s unknowingly emitting.

  At this point, I don’t care about rational. I just want my kids back!

  “We’re close,” Ice says. “I can feel it.”

  “What do you think of Nyanath?” I ask. “I mean, if it comes to her father or us, who do you think she’ll side with?”

  Ice scratches his new beard growth, tilts his head one way and then the other cracking his neck, then he pops his knuckles and says, “All I know is the second we get a lead, it’s time to take the gloves off and go Charles Manson on this dumpster donkey.”

  “Amen to that,” I say, cracking my knuckles as well.

  “What are you doing?” the voice behind us says.

  We both turn and see Nasr.

  “Hi, Nasr,” I tell him. “Did you sleep well?”

  He nods his head.

  “And did you get enough to eat?” Ice asks.

  He nods his head again and says, “It’s really cold. Can we turn on the heat?”

  “The power went out, little man,” I tell him. “But if you want, I can walk you next door to Eudora’s house. She’s got a real fire in the fireplace.”

  “I don’t like the way she smells,” Nasr says.

  “She said the same about you,” I tell him. “But if she smells different and she’s nice, and you smell different and you’re nice, then maybe you can get warm and maybe make a friend.”

  “Can I sit here and be cold with you guys?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Where’s my brother?” Nasr asks.

  “He’s next door with the women, getting warm and getting something to eat.”

  Nasr puts his hands in his pockets, sets his jaw and looks out the window with me and Ice. He’s waiting for something, maybe waiting for nothing—maybe he just likes us.

  Ten minutes pass with nothing to show for it. Nasr is starting to shiver and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go next door?” Ice asks.

  “Why would I go hang out with a bunch of women?” he says with a stiff upper lip.

  “If I could go hang out with the women right now, that’s exactly where I’d be,” I say. “Not because I’m weak or unwilling to fight, but because women are the prize of life.”

  Nasr makes a face, says nothing. He won’t even look at me, which I find humorous.

  “In this family, we respect our women,” Ice says. “The second you get a little hair on your balls you’ll understand. Money isn’t the treasure, nor is a nice house, a fast car or cool clothes. Women are the real treasure, young man, which is why abusing them or even talking down to them is not allowed here.”

  “That seems stupid.”

  “It’s either that or you sleep in the snow,” I say giving him the stink-eye. Holding his little eyes in the vice grip of my gaze, I tell him, “I hope I’m making myself clear.”

  “Fine,” he grumbles. “I guess.”

  “If things go the way we’re hoping,” I tell him, smiling and lightening my mood, “we should see your sister soon.”

  “Nyanath?”

  “Yes. We saw her earlier.”

  “What does she want?” he asks like he could care less.

  “First off, she wanted to know how you were doing, and that you were safe. Second, she wanted to make sure she could take care of you while all of this craziness was going on.”

  “My father can take care of us just fine,” Nasr says.

  “My brother is going to kill your father the second he gets the chance,” Ice says.

  Nasr looks up at me and says, “If you kill him, then I’ll kill you.”

  Ice grabs the back of the little kid’s head and grips him by the hair. The second Nasr tries to resist, the second he squirms and makes a fist, Ice tightens his grip, which I know is painful.

  “I like you kid,” I tell him. “You have heart. But this is my family and our family is made up of warriors and women. Now I know you love your father and will do whatever you can to protect him, but that man is a monster. He hurts children like you. He kills them. Do you want me to kill you?”

  “No.”

  “The children your father killed, they didn’t want to die just like you don’t want to die. He killed them anyway.”

  “Are you going to kill me?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “If I let you stay with me, my brother and our family, you will be respectful of the fact that we are not going to tolerate disrespect. If you can do that, you will have a safe place to stay.”

  Ice let go of Nasr’s hair, cupped his head in a kind manner, then said, “I personally like you and your siblings. I think you’re good people at heart.”

  “I don’t want to stay with my sister,” the boy says, rubbing the back of his head where Ice had him.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “Because she loves her own family more than she loves me and Kamal.”

  “How do you know that?” Ice says.

  “She doesn’t come home.”

  “I think she’s going to want you in her life as much as possible now,” I say, knowing her baby and her husband are gone.

  “No she’s not,” he mumbles.

  “Not only do we know that for certain,” I say, finally seeing her Subaru pull up, “we can prove it.”

  “How?” he asks, looking up at me.

  I point to the curb and that’s when he sees her. She gets out of her car. The second I open the front door to her, I take a sharp, unexpected breath. She’s got blood all over her chin, neck and chest. And her hands are crusted with flakes of red.

  “Oh boy,” Ice says.

  Oh, no. Did she…?

  “Who’s blood is that all over you?” I ask her.

  “I know where your kids are,” she says.

  “Come in,” Ice tells her, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

  She sees Nasr and she starts to cry. He slowly walks up to her and takes her hand, not seeing the drying blood. Looking down at her little brother, Nyanath says, “Are you okay here, little brother?”

  He nods his head, his eyes shimmering. She pulls him into a hug that lasts forever, and then she says, “Can I trouble you for a glass of water? Perhaps a towel I could use to wipe some of this blood off me?”

  “My brother is already on it,” I say.

  “Whose blood is that?” Nasr asks.

  “You were right about my father,” she says, humbly. When she speaks, I see the split in the left corner of her lip opening up. And it’s hard not to look at the broken blood vessels in her left eye. There’s even a little blood crusted inside her nostril.

  “Did he hit you?” Ice asks, handing her a clean towel.

  “I grew up with him hitting me,” she replies, wiping her nose and mouth. “But I’m not a kid anymore. So this time I hit back.”

  “Where is my father?” Nasr asks her, his eyes looking frantic.

  “Will you be okay?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “What about your father?” Ice asks, all of us ignoring Nasr.

  “Someone killed him, and I could not save him,” she says, not looking down at her brother.

  Ice and I exchange looks.

  That someone was Nyanath by the look of it.

  The back door opens and Adeline comes in, sees this lovely black woman cleaning blood off her face and says, “Are you okay?”

  “This is my sister,” Nasr says. “She’s a n
urse, but that’s not her blood. She thinks our father is dead, but I don’t think he is. He can’t be.”

  Nyanath doesn’t say otherwise.

  “She knows where our kids are,” I tell Adeline.

  My wife’s eyes get the most incredible shine, her hand coming to her mouth. “Really?” she asks, her voice cracking. “Are they…are they okay?”

  “I don’t know,” Nyanath says.

  “Before my father died, he gave me their location. I haven’t been there. I’m unarmed.”

  “But we aren’t,” Eliana says, walking in the door in the right moment.

  “I will leave one of the boys with you until you find your family, but dead or alive, when you find them, I want my other brother back. They’re all the family I have left.”

  Adeline looks down at the big ring on her finger and says, “You’re married?”

  “Widowed,” she says, wiping her neck, her eyes blank, lost in that thousand yard stare. “I lost my child, too.”

  Adeline hugs her and says, “I’m so sorry.”

  I look down at Nasr and the poor kid is having a hard time keeping up with all the terrible things his sister is saying.

  Nyanath stands back, looks at my wife and I think she’s not sure how to take her. Has she never experienced this kind of emotional generosity before?

  She’s obviously devastated.

  “I’m Adeline,” she says.

  “Nyanath.”

  “Nyanath,” Adeline asks, her tone tender, her eyes full of pleading, “where are my kids?”

  “I will give you directions,” she says. “But first, which boy can I have?”

  “Take Kamal,” Nasr says. “He won’t be scared that way.”

  “Aren’t you scared?” Nyanath asks, surprised by the boy, but not surprised either.

  “No.”

  It’s easy to see he’s lying, but that he’s doing so out of bravery. This makes me like the kid even more.

  “I’ll go get him,” Eliana says.

  While Nyanath gives us directions to the railyard, and the description of their whereabouts inside the yard, Eliana gets Kamal and brings him back. Kamal runs into his sister’s arms and refuses to let go.

  He doesn’t start crying, but he comes close.

  Nasr just crosses his arms and tilts his chin up, almost like a dictator, if dictators came in extra small sizes.